Rotten Apple
by Dlvvanzor
Summary: Tests had shown nothing wrong with Light Yagami's brain, so he knew it was only in his mind. Knowing it wasn't real, though, didn't change the facts: that every person, place, and thing overwhelmed him with the smell of putrefaction. People, of course, were the worst- the duller the person, the worse they smelled. The world and everyone in it was rotten. LxL HS AU COMPLETE
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I do not own Death Note.**

 **A/N: Hello! So this is already finished and will be posted rapidly in very long chapters, for a total of just about fifty thousand words. It's pretty different than any other DN fic I've ever posted.**

 **The premise for this fanfic was taken from Light's internal monologue in the canon: "The world is rotten." I wondered what it would be like if that manifested for Light in a slightly different way than he meant it in canon. It's also… sort of a HS AU… maybe?**

 **Also, if you like (original) books about gay wizards, check out this author. I got to read the manuscript and I ship it so hard… www dot aprilpresnell dot com. If you sign up for her newsletter you can get a free short story of the gentlemen.**

* * *

The world, Light knew, was rotten.

He stared into his room, backpack still slung over his back, and his brain filled with the smell of his own particular rot. He was rotten too, of course. Or more accurately, he was rott _ing_ — swelling, elongating, and dropping off at the joints. He watched as the dust, little flecks of his own skin and hair and dirt, floated in front of his window, catching the light and glowing for a moment, disturbed by his opening the door.

Dust. Dust was rot, and he and everyone else on Earth inhaled it during every moment. In through the nose, in and down. Dust was particles of people and animals and objects, tiny. Particles of rot that could fly up into his nose and throat and lungs.

Light breathed rot. Everyone breathed rot, always. Rotten lungs sucked in air riddled with rotten dust and snatched out the oxygen and injected it into rotten blood, and rotten blood circulated veins made of rot, to every single rotten cell in his rotting body and the rotting bodies of everyone else.

Most people didn't think about it. (Light envied them, as much as he could envy something he loathed.) Yes- most people didn't think about the rotting, and was another problem. They didn't _think_ , and their brains were rotting away, the gyri swelling and sulci shriveling in until their brains looked more like a coil of worms. A rat king. Of maggots, digging in the rot and leaving a trail, interconnecting like ant tunnels.

They looked at the world and didn't think anything of it. They didn't _think_ anything of it. People smelled the worst, much worse than animals or objects. It was like the scent was emanating from their nostrils, their ears, sometimes even their pores. People smelled like putrefaction. The closer they got, the more it permeated. The more they spoke, the more swallowing felt like forcing down spoiled milk. Chunks. The more it made him gag.

There were no exceptions- Light had never met one, anyway. Even Light, who thought _all the time_ , smelled. The world was simply so rotten that even when someone tried to think, like Light, the reek clung to them. Even though his brain was rotting less than others, he could still smell it oozing out his ears, even though he tried to stay occupied, tried to keep engaged. There just wasn't enough in the world to do it. The world was rotten all the way through, every nook and cranny and corner and peak was soft, sickly, turning brown and black.

Light crossed his room and dropped his backpack on the floor.

His mother called him down for dinner and he went. She smelled, and his father smelled, and his sister smelled, but Light sat down at his seat at the dinner table without complaint. He ate the food his mother served, even though it tasted sort of like bitter cardboard. It was a noodle dish, he thought, at least it looked like one, but his ability to taste the difference between foods was minimal at best. He ate methodically, only enough to live and maintain his current weight.

He made small talk with his family as if nothing was wrong, because really nothing was. Nothing that hadn't been wrong his whole life, anyway, and he knew better than to say anything about it. No one else could smell it but him, he'd learned long ago, and he knew if he insisted they'd call him crazy.

So he kept it pleasant. He kept his parents pleased by how respectful he was. He kept his sister awed by how great of a big brother he was. He kept them proud.

His father smelled like halitosis. His mother, like a sewer. His sister, like unwashed socks.

The aroma of all that blended together was just wonderful.

When he could, he said he had homework, which he had already completed, and excused himself to his room.

At least there were no other people's smells in this particular room, except for the waft up from downstairs where he could hear his parents and sister still chatting.

He could stay up for a while. Watch some TV. Study some more. Listen to some music, maybe, or organize his room (again). Maybe a combination of these things.

Or he could go to bed.

He could just go to bed and it could be over for now.

He went to bed.

* * *

Light slept.

He woke up, he brushed his teeth, showered, and his shampoo smelled like gasoline. He got dressed, did his hair (quite the ritual, took over ten minutes), gathered up his homework. He went to school.

Before he crossed the threshold into the school, Light took a deep breath of relatively fresh air. He would try (fail) not to obsess over the stink all day because it was inescapable, but the first moment walking in the doors was the hardest part of the day. He held his breath as long as he could, making himself smile as he walked down the hall. When he couldn't hold his breath anymore, he breathed, gagged, recovered. Then he smiled again, and people smiled back because it was just so damn appealing.

He radiated. In addition to radiating stink (he knew) he radiated aloof, untouchable, but so very compelling. He was barely in the building and already he saw an underclassmen girl with a note folded into a heart clutched in her hand. She'd been leaning on a wall, waiting for him. He averted his eyes, letting his gaze go thoughtful. He paused by a window, gazing out of it, lost in thought. He wasn't. Light didn't get _lost_ in thought, he simply thought, but he didn't want to deal with this child.

 _Other_ people got lost in thought. Thought was so unfamiliar to other people that when they went into it they never found their way back out of it.

The girl stopped, hesitated; Light exhaled a silent breath of relief. The girl took several deep breaths to calm herself, and Light idly wondered what it was like to take in the rotten air and feel strengthened by it and not feel like it was coating her lungs with another, smothering layer that bit by bit decreased her overall lung capacity. It had worked for millions of people for thousands of years, but Light wasn't like them.

The girl's breaths hadfortified her, and now she was approaching him again, and the closer she got the more he could smell wet dog and burnt hair.

She was speaking so he turned around, but it was like he was underwater, or like she was. He watched her lips move, watched her face flush. He watched her shift her weight from foot to foot and talk, and talk, and talk. She was still talking, and he hadn't heard a single word. Her voice was only muffled mumbling. She as an entity was no more than a mumble. Just as easy to overlook, dismiss.

He formed his face into what he knew was a beautiful smile. He knew, because he had practiced it in the mirror when he'd practiced not cringing every time he breathed. Her breath caught and she stopped her silent babbling.

He hadn't heard her, but he knew what she'd said. Something about them dating. Something about reading her note. Something about thinking he was 'cool.' Something about loving him. As _if_. As if she could, as if she had any idea.

He had a stock answer for this, as it was hardly the first time. He looked down at her outstretched hand which held the now-crumpled, palm-sweaty love note, arranged in its pathetic heart shape. His face still the very picture of grace, Light looked back up at her and said, in an apologetic (fake), sincere (fake) voice, "I don't date."

Nervous mumbles, now. Still underwater, but he could see her expression change, her blush becoming a flush of embarrassment. Her hopeful lean forward becoming a retracting, withdrawing, folding in on herself. She was sorry, she hadn't known, he should tell her if he ever changed his mind. Then she was backing away, then she was fleeing, and she may have had tears in her eyes.

Light went to class.

* * *

Light took his seat in the back of the class in the desk nearest the window. He took his books out and placed them neatly on the table. He removed a pen and a notebook, as well, although he wouldn't be using either of them. Instead, he rested his chin on his hand and looked out at the world on the other side of the glass. Not for any interest it held- not at all- but because it meant he did not have to make eye contact with anyone else in the room.

They all went about their lives, chatting (rotten potato), teasing (rancid meat), gossiping (sour milk), socializing in their rapidly depleting time before the teacher would enter the room and hush them. He could tell that there was a low buzz of energy in the room but he couldn't sense it himself. He only knew it was there because he knew what to look for: smiles, movement, laughter, people turned around in their chairs. Those were the things people did when they were happy. It was a favorite time of day for many students, he knew. As long as he faced the window, it could be a tolerable time of day for him, too.

He turned his head to sneak a glance at his watch and was surprised to see a new student.

The new student was staring at him. He was seated at a desk that happened to be empty that day, on the other side of the room from Light. From his angle, staring at Light couldn't have been particularly easy, but the boy was making a decent job of it which was especially impressive given he was crouching on his chair like he intended to stand up on it. Light watched him back, interest very slightly piqued. He was used to people staring at him. They did it all the time. Girls, and sometimes boys, would often stare at him, imagining _things_ about him. Innocent, sometimes, but often not. Wondering about him or thinking about things they wanted from him. They were so obvious, even when they were 'being subtle' that Light could all but hear their thoughts. Some of those thoughts would be pretty damn flattering if they were coming from someone who was not simply a mound of putrid flesh.

This boy was thinking, but from his big, blank, dark-eyed stare Light did not get a sense of wondering _or_ wanting. But he was clearly thinking. It was so nice to see someone thinking. And, apparently, not even at a time when he was being forced to. He met the boy's eyes and watched them start to dissect him.

He wondered idly if they could.

He sincerely doubted it.

He did not, however, try to stop them. Not actively, anyway. He didn't throw up any more barriers than he'd already wrapped around himself, didn't build up any new walls. If that boy could get something out of him just by looking, then Light welcomed the intrusion.

After several moments of eye contact, he saw the vaguest hint of confusion pass over the other boy's expression, followed instantly by renewed interest. He hadn't gotten anything, and he was used to getting something, and he liked not getting it.

Light just _was not_ like other people, and this boy's tactics, whatever they were, were not going to apply. Shame.

Light turned back towards the window, interest gone, at least for the moment. Whoever this boy was, he wasn't important.

Nevertheless, Light kept an eye on him. The biggest surprise was not the appearance of the boy, but the teacher's lack of comment upon it. For a moment Light became concerned that this boy was a figment of his imagination, a product of a mind that was very ready to start cracking any time, now, but he caught other students sneaking curious glances at the boy, too. It wasn't just him. More, it wasn't just Light who had not seen this boy before. He wore the uniform (though he didn't wear it well, Light couldn't help but notice- 'askew' would have been a polite word for the arrangement of his clothes) but he had no books, nothing at all on his desk. His hair was definitely not dress code, untamed and far too long. He also was not exactly wearing his shoes, but he wasn't exactly not wearing them, either.

The boy wouldn't have seen any of the curious looks he was getting, though, because he did not take his eyes off Light.

Light didn't approach the staring boy, and the staring boy did not approach Light, so Light ended his school day without any further information about him.

* * *

Light went home in a daze. Travel was just travel. It was a beautiful day but it made no functional difference- pavement was terrible rain or shine. It was ugly, for one thing, it was man made, for a terrible other thing, and worst of all, it was so rotten that it felt in his mind like his shoes stuck slightly to it as he walked, as if it hadn't yet cured and he was walking on it too soon. Rotten things were sticky, of course. The sound of a footstep was like the sound of his shoes peeling off the pavement. The smell of the tar, long dissipated, was the smell of moldy cake.

He didn't hurry.

He announced his return home out of habit, taking off his shoes, but otherwise he did not wait for his mother to come to the door to greet him. He headed straight for his room as always but today she was too fast- she'd happened to be near the front of the house, arms full of laundry- and she cornered him.

"Light!" She was always so happy to see him. He instructed his face to smile back at her, because if he just kept staring at her blankly she would worry, and if she worried she would pry, and if she pried she'd be near him more. "Welcome home. Did you read that pamphlet about choosing a major?"

"Yes," he answered automatically.

"Are you okay?"

She was frowning. He thought hard, wading through the muck of her presence, querying his echoic memory for a transcript of what she'd said. "Yes," he said finally. "Just tired." He checked his face in her expression- apparently he hadn't smiled. He focused extra hard and made his face do it now, and he could tell the moment it worked because her features softened.

"Long day at school?" she asked sympathetically.

He shifted his bag on his shoulder. "Yeah."

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"No." But he couldn't leave her with that. That wasn't enough. She had to have a reason firmly in her mind. She wasn't abstract enough for anything beyond happy, sad, and tired. "An underclassmen girl tried to ask me out today."

Her eyes sparkled. "Oh? Does my son finally have a girlfriend?"

Light shook his head, doing his best to look bashful. "No, Mom. We'd never spoken before today. It was a bit of a shock. I felt bad turning her down because she looked so sad."

She smiled. He had provided enough. "You're such a nice young man. Well, it's her loss, but she should probably try for a boy her own age. Or at least one she has spoken with before!"

"Yeah." He nodded. "I'm going to go work on homework, okay?"

"Oh, of course." It was the one thing that could always get her to go away. "I'll bring up some tea in a bit."

"No," he said too quickly. "Thank you. I'm just going to take a nap after I finish."

She let him go and he was relieved to vanish into his room.

* * *

His room was dark and relatively peaceful. He didn't drop onto his bed this time. Instead, he crossed immediately to his desk to do his homework. It didn't take him very long, and the moment it was done he had nothing to do but languish. He considered his TV. He could watch the news, see more proof of the rotten world. Sometimes watching the world go to ruin in slow motion sort of improved his mood. Usually, though, it just made the air in his bedroom smell even worse, and after a full day of school he wasn't sure he wanted to deal with it.

Instead, he simply sat in his chair, staring at the black TV screen, his room lit only by the desk lamp he'd been forced to turn on to do his homework.

There was some dust collected on the volume buttons. He stared at it for several moments, then extended his finger to brush off the dust. It clung to his finger. Dust. He'd read once that dust contained plant pollen, bits of hair, fibers from clothes, specks of paper, minerals from the soil outside, skin cells, meteorite particles, and other things. He had not read anywhere about how it felt when it stuck to his skin, about how it gave him the overwhelming urge to scrape his finger along his trousers to remove it. He did. He wanted to wash his hands, too, but he knew it wouldn't help. It _was_ all in his head, including the sensation that the dust was still there, pulsing on his skin.

He rubbed his finger firmly on his trousers again for good measure, then stood. He wanted to go. He wanted to _go_. But there was nowhere _to_ go. Everywhere he'd ever been was exactly the same as where he was now, so even if he started walking in a random direction, he'd always end up having gone absolutely nowhere. He hovered where he stood for a moment, torn between trying it yet again anyway and giving up, but then the urge to _go, quickly, now_ left him and he dropped back into his seat with a loud exhale. He couldn't just go wandering about in the streets. It was a school night, after all.

There was a knock at his door. His father's knock- he knew the signature knocks of all his family members because he left his room as little as possible and if they wanted him, they had to come to his room and knock. So he'd gotten used to all of their knocks.

"Light, may I come in?"

Apparently today was the designated day for his parents to Discuss Things with him. He could only hope that he'd get his father out of his room as quickly as he'd gotten his mother to let him go.

"Sure, Dad."

Soichiro opened the door, smiled, and entered. Light watched him, resisting the urge to hold his breath. His father crossed to Light's bed and sat down on it.

"Sit with me."

Light rose, moved, and sat, keeping a fair distance between them. He certainly didn't want to invite any closeness. Now, what would be the topic of the day? He bet he could guess…

"Your mother told me you read that packet about choosing a major."

Light won the bet. He looked at his father. His father was so normal. Not in a bad way, really. He was a good person. One of the best people Light had ever met, in fact. But Soichiro was so incredibly ordinary. He thought ordinary thoughts about normal things, such as what schools his son was applying to and what he was having for dinner that night. He did things like initiate family meetings and read the newspaper and surprise his wife with small gifts. He worked hard and provided for his family.

He oozed ordinary.

He oozed pus, like a festering wound that needed to be squeezed. His odor was just as tangy.

"Yes," Light finally said after what he hoped was not too long a pause.

"That's good," his father said. "Have you put any thought into it?"

"Yes, Dad."

"You shouldn't wait until you're already there," he told Light for the thousandth time.

Light was really an excellent son. Systematically, he'd applied to every university his parents had wished him to apply to. He'd get into any of them based on the strength of his essay, let alone his grades, but he diligently kept applying, playing along with the system. But the system didn't work on him. How could it when it was meant to measure people and sort them into places that would challenge them but not too much. For him, nothing would ever be too much and nothing would ever be a challenge other than basic daily function, so there was no way to sort him.

They'd had this conversation, and the longer Soichiro spent repeating himself the deeper he sank underwater, until Light couldn't hear him even though he was trying to. He just watched his father's face and nodded when it looked like he should, smiled when his father smiled, shook his head when he sensed he was supposed to.

"You should turn a light on in this room," Soichiro said, not unkindly, and those words popped out because they weren't simply a regurgitation of everything they'd talked about last week and the week before. "You'll ruin your eyes."

Light wondered idly what it would be like to be blind. Would the world be completely black, or would he still be able to see blurs, shapes, or shadows? Would it be interesting to be blind, to need to relearn his entire life? Would it be interesting to blind himself?

"Mhm," he finally managed to say, forcing away the image his brain was trying to create of taking scissors and slicing open his eyes.

His father reached out and put a heavy hand on Light's shoulder. "I'm proud of you, son," he said, and he really did look it. After all, what was there not to be proud of? Light was the perfect young man. The perfect son. He behaved in school and got perfect grades and did everything his parents ever asked. He didn't bring girls home or stay out all night or do drugs or drink. Soichiro's pride was completely warranted, Light thought, except that if his father could see inside Light's head he'd have him committed, not put him on a pedestal.

"Thanks," he said. He looked at the clock. "Do you mind if I go to sleep, now? I had a long day."

His father patted his shoulder twice, then took his hand back. "I didn't mean to keep you up," he said. "Just wanted to check in. You're always in this room, it feels like I never see you."

If only. He smiled and nodded, and he kept doing this until his father eventually did leave.

He'd been tired before but now Light was truly exhausted. He laid back on his bed. It was only 9:00, but that wasn't _too_ early to go to bed. He'd definitely gone to bed earlier than that. Thinking about this, he watched the ceiling, trying to decide if he had the energy to brush his teeth and do his bed preparation routine. He rarely missed teeth brushing- the last thing he wanted was bad-smelling breath, even though toothpaste was rank- so maybe he could afford to, only this once, just slip out of his clothes and into bed.

He committed and soon he was naked and in his bed, the blankets wrapped around him tightly. The blankets were cold, not yet warmed by his body heat. He'd left the desk lamp on and it cast long shadows of the contents of his desk onto his walls. He stared at the shadows, absently trying to match them up with what was casting them without looking at the desk. When he'd matched them all up he simply stared at the ceiling, counting his heartbeats. It was a reliable way to pass time when time seemed like it had stopped, like it usually did at night.

Eventually, Light was able to doze off.

* * *

He slept poorly that night, like most nights, waking up several times but only halfway, locking him in a half-dream, half-lucid state where he could neither regain nor relinquish control. When his alarm clock finally woke him all the way he was as tired as if he hadn't slept at all.

He showered and got ready for school. He brushed his teeth twice as long (gagging, almost getting sick) to make up for skipping the previous night. He got dressed, shaking imaginary dust out of his clothes and choking on the imaginary smell. He went downstairs and he ate the breakfast his mother made for him, chewing methodically and swallowing, over and over until it was gone. He was never hungry, so the best policy was simply to clean his plate whenever food was offered.

Then it was time for school, and he went, and travel was travel and today was rainy but it didn't matter- the pavement was sticky either way. He crossed the train tracks and paused on them for a moment, looking down them. He could walk that direction. Better yet, he could get on a train going that direction, whatever that direction was, and take the train and its connections until he couldn't anymore, and then he could take a taxi or a… or whatever they used to travel, wherever he ended up. Maybe a bike. He'd take a bike and keep going, and then he'd be at the sea. He'd be at a port, and he could get on a boat, and he bet… he bet ocean air did not smell like anything.

He hesitated for a moment longer on the tracks, and then he put his head down against the rain, and he walked the rest of the way to school.

* * *

The boy was there at school again, and the classroom was positively atwitter. He was sitting in the same spot as before. He looked up when Light came into the room and Light stopped, looking back at him. Were they going to do this again? Was it going to be a daily thing? Maybe this boy just liked to stare. Maybe he just had a face that always made it look like he was staring. Maybe the boy _was_ staring at Light, and was wanting something from him. Though, looking at him, Light couldn't imagine what he might want.

Whatever it was, he was staring. That was the objective truth.

For the first time in ages, Light felt compelled to speak to someone before they'd spoken to him. He took a few steps closer to the boy, still keeping a good distance between them, to indicate that it was to him that he was speaking.

"What's your name?" he asked.

The boy put his thumb to his bottom lip, scratching at it. As far as Light could tell, he hadn't blinked once. But then, how often did Light really notice people blinking or not blinking? It was probably just the unwarranted intensity of the stare that made it _seem_ like he wasn't…

No, Light was pretty sure the boy wasn't blinking.

"You may call me Ryuuzaki," the boy said. He voice surprised Light. It was lower than he had expected, for some reason, though he hadn't actually put any thought into what his voice would be like.

"I'm Light."

"It is nice to meet you. To formally meet you, at any rate."

His face was expressionless but his voice was expressive. It was a strange juxtaposition that made Light… uncomfortable?

"Likewise," Light replied politely. Ryuuzaki went back to staring and Light fell silent.

A few other students came into the room. One, a particularly rancid, idiotic boy, brushed past him, actually coming into slight physical contact with him. A touch, he _hated_ being touched by other students. His mouth filled with bile, laced with the flavor of the boy's scent, rotten chicken. He choked. The boy turned around to apologize and Light managed a smile, and to wave it off, but if he opened his mouth he was sure he'd be sick. There were more students coming in and he didn't want it to happen again. If it did, he couldn't be held responsible for what he'd say to them, or what else might come out of his mouth. He spun around and hurried to his desk, taking shelter in the little ring of solitude. He took several deep breaths to calm his stomach but it didn't help. He knew better, he shouldn't have tried. He squarely faced the window and concentrated on staring out of it.

The teacher came in at some point, but the world was so loud that he couldn't distinguish the teacher's voice from the rushing in his ears and the shuffling of other students. He missed when it was underwater. How could he make the world be back underwater?

Class was endless. He didn't have the brain capacity to actually mark the time, but he knew that the world had narrowed down to only this one class, and that this one class would last for the duration of the universe being in existence. He felt like that every day, of course, but if he could just go home…

The bell rang. That, he heard. He looked up from where he'd been memorizing the lines of his empty notebook. It was only the bell for the end of first period. He sighed hugely and considered putting his head on the desk. That would attract attention, though, so he simply went back to resting his head on his palm. He certainly didn't need someone coming over to ask if he was-

"Are you feeling quite well, Light?"

He forced a smile on his face and turned it towards the speaker. It was the boy. Of course it was the boy.

"I'm fine," he said politely.

"You looked as if you'd be sick."

Light glanced around the room. No one else was looking at him. He could tell that no one else _had_ been looking at him, either. He was a popular student. Distant, but popular. If he looked sick, at least one person would have asked if he was okay. He was absolutely certain that his reaction had been completely internal.

So he looked Ryuuzaki in the eyes and said, simply, "No I didn't."

"True," Ryuuzaki granted. "Nevertheless, you _were_ about to be sick, weren't you?"

"What makes you think so?" he asked, letting his eyes drift as if he were entirely uninterested in Ryuuzaki's answer.

"You made the slightest face…" Ryuuzaki said, taking a step closer to get a better look at Light. "Just the slightest. As if you'd just smelled something horrid. And then you rushed away and took some deep breaths, like someone does when they're trying not to vomit."

Astute. Certainly no one else had noticed Light subtly taking deep breaths while facing away from them.

"You are very observant," Light said.

The faintest hint of a smile crossed Ryuuzaki's lips. "Yes I am. Thank you for noticing, Light."

Light looked away.

"So what did you smell?" Ryuuzaki asked, taking yet another step closer. Light fought the urge to lean away. "I have a very good olfactory sense and I am completely certain that there were no negative odors at that moment. Yet, you smelled something so strongly that it made you very nearly vomit."

Now Light was staring at him. He had gone seventeen years without anyone noticing anything like that, without anyone even edging towards the topic, and now here someone was, straight-out asking why he was making 'that stinks' faces in a room with no bad odors.

"In fact," and here Ryuuzaki leaned forward, "the student who bumped into you is one of the least-offensive-smelling teenage boys I've ever met, and it was then that you reacted most strongly."

 _That_ boy didn't smell bad? It boggled the mind. He was always one of the worst. Sometimes it was the rotten chicken, sometimes it was simply feces. He was the worst student in their graduating year, barely passing, and his stink oozed out of his ears where his disused brains would leak out if only there was enough of them to do so. And apparently he smelled good to other people.

Light didn't react in time, and his cover was blown. It was too late now, so he didn't bother.

"So it's true," Ryuuzaki said, shoving his hands into his pockets. He stood at a weird crouch, but at least he wasn't leaning in anymore. "Fascinating."

No one had ever called Light fascinating, unless they were referring to how he moved or something he'd just said, primarily if they were hoping to get him into bed. It was weird.

The teacher walked in and Ryuuzaki looked up. "We shall speak more on this later," he informed Light.

 _Like hell,_ Light thought.

Ryuuzaki went back to his seat. He didn't stare at Light anymore, but he could feel Ryuuzaki's attention probing him, waiting for him to do something else. To stand up in class and shriek, perhaps, or simply to cough. Well, Light would be doing none of that. He would be a model student. He would keep his eyes on the teacher and nowhere else, and he would give Ryuuzaki no further hints into his mind. Or into his nose, as the case may be. He'd welcomed the attempt the day before, but that was before there had been a measure of success. No one _knew_ him. He'd never allowed it. He certainly wasn't going to start now.

Light found his eyes wandering towards Ryuuzaki. He tried to keep it only to the corners so it was less obvious, but he felt like the boy knew he was looking from the slant of his shoulders. Ridiculous, probably. Insane, possibly, but Light was basically mad anyway so what was the harm in adding a little paranoia?

So Ryuuzaki had suspected that Light smelled a rat, as it were, and his lack of reaction had confirmed it. What did the boy really know, though? He didn't know that Light smelled bad things _all the time_. He didn't know that it was all Light ever smelled, that it pervaded, that there wasn't a moment when it didn't almost choke him. There was no way Ryuuzaki could have put that together, right?

So maybe he could keep trying to pry Light apart. He wouldn't win, that was for sure. It could be amusing to watch someone get a little bit close and then still fail.

And maybe he wouldn't fail. That would actually be really interesting, too. What would Ryuuzaki do? Just stare at him some more? It was his only method so far. Really, Light knew nothing about him…

He didn't learn any more about him that day, either. When the bell rang again, Light's eyes went to Ryuuzaki, expecting the boy to approach him. He didn't. Had he lost interest already?

Ryuuzaki didn't approach him again that day.

When the final bell rang, Light completed his duties as assigned. Then he went home.

Travel was travel. The pavement reeked, and his shoes seemed to stick with every step. The sky was gray, today, and the weather was misty, neither rain nor not rain. The humidity smelled like a foot, but Light didn't rush home.

Home. Mother, yes to whatever she wanted. Sister, no, he would not play today because he had far too much homework. Bedroom. Desk lamp only, homework complete (not very much, he'd lied), desk lamp left on to semi-light the room. A shower, the shampoo cringe-inducing, the water steaming but the warmth not sinking into his skin. Putting on pajamas and getting into bed. Getting out because his sheets stank, swapping them out with fresh sheets, getting in again and they smelled exactly the same. Burying his face in his pillow. Realizing he'd left the lamp on, not having the energy to get up and turn it off. Realizing he'd forgotten to go downstairs for dinner, not having the energy to do it now. Lying still. Waiting for sleep.

Waiting for sleep, but it was only 7:30.

Waiting for sleep.

Sleeping.

* * *

Waking up and still asleep, really. Walking to school asleep. Taking his seat asleep. Listening to the teacher asleep and underwater, not taking in any of the information but it didn't matter because he was still the best student in the school. Asleep and going to lunch, staring at his lunch and realizing he hadn't eaten since lunch the previous day, as he'd forgotten breakfast that day in addition to dinner the night before. Asleep and eating mouthfuls of cotton and cardboard. Asleep and back in class. Asleep and leaving. Asleep and travel was travel and the pavement stuck to his shoes, flowed up over his shoes and into them, making his feet sticky. Asleep and answering Mother, asleep and doing homework, asleep and remembering to go downstairs for dinner. Asleep and eating his shaving cream and toenail clippings meat dish. Asleep and going back up to his dark room.

Asleep. Getting into bed, forgot to turn off the light but too tired to do it now. Asleep, lying still.

Waiting for sleep. It's only 9:00.

Waiting for sleep.

Sleeping.


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: I do not own Death Note.**

* * *

It wasn't until the following day in class that he realized that Ryuuzaki had not been present the day before, and he only noticed that when Ryuuzaki approached him.

"Hello," he said, voice friendly and face vacant. He had stopped directly in front of Light's desk.

"You were absent yesterday."

"I was," Ryuuzaki answered. "I was making preparations. Which, by the way, I am glad you mentioned." He reached into his back pocket and removed a test tube, plugged with a cork stopper. Light thought wildly for a moment that Ryuuzaki was about to attack him with some sort of acid, but before he could react (or simply sit and let it happen) Ryuuzaki removed the cork and shoved the test tube under Light's nose.

Skunk. Skunk blended with burnt rubber. Light gasped in surprise at the sudden stab of scent, it made him gag, and he reflexively swatted the test tube away from himself, but Ryuuzaki was ready and it didn't fly from his hands. His fingers tightened and Light was able to bat the smell away from himself, but he wasn't able to send it flying across the room like he really wanted to. Probably that was for the best, because if the test tube had broken the smell would have been released into the room and Light would have been stuck with it.

Ryuuzaki placed the stopper back in the test tube with a small, self-satisfied smile. He didn't comment. Light waited for him to, as he tried to clear his spinning senses by force of will. He waited a while, actually, but Ryuuzaki just kept standing there with that same sense of satisfaction.

"What was in that test tube?" Light asked after several long moments.

The smile widened. Light's eyes narrowed.

The pale boy blinked once, slowly. "Lavender," he said, and he said it with such an all-knowing smirk in his voice that Light wanted to…

Punch him?

He looked around the room, but no one was paying attention to them. They were all enjoying their normal-person morning activities, chatting and goofing off and waiting for class to start. One student was frantically trying to finish his homework. His desperation smelled metallic.

"So?" Light prompted. Ryuuzaki apparently loved to wait for him to speak first.

"So, I have confirmed something I already knew, and learned another fact. Light Yagami makes up smells where they aren't and loathes smells where they are."

Light checked the room again. Everyone was still engrossed in their own activities. Still, he didn't want to talk about this where anyone could hear.

"Congratulations," Light said. "Now, class is about to start, so if you would remove yourself from my line of sight I would appreciate it."

Ryuuzaki nodded. The movement was condescending, like a half-courtesy, but also oddly graceful considering he looked like a pile of poorly glued-together limbs. "We can discuss this later, not in public, if your vanity is so easily offended. It's all arranged, anyway."

Arranged? He felt any response he made would be analyzed, so Light simply turned his gaze to the front of the room where the teacher would soon stand and pretended Ryuuzaki was not there. He was a little worried about how this was all 'arranged,' but strongly sensed that he would find out soon whether he wanted to or not.

The boy took his non-response as a response (damn him) and went back to his seat, just in time for the teacher to come into the room. She wasted no time and began lessons immediately, which made Light cringe. When she spoke she smelled of overripe berries. She hated her job and wasn't even very good at it.

He was able to focus on her a bit, to his surprise. She reeked, and the room reeked, but she sounded more like she had a pillow over her face than like she was entirely underwater. He heard a few words of the lecture and it made the class period go by a little bit faster.

* * *

It was not until the end of the day that Light discovered what Ryuuzaki's 'plan' for him was, and it turned out to be simple: when he opened his shoe locker at the end of the day, there was an air-freshener hung up inside it with a few words written on it-

 _We will be talking about this in public or in private. If you would prefer it to be in private, meet me on the roof after school._

It was vaguely threatening, but he couldn't help admiring its gumption. The air freshener smelled like worms. It wasn't a terrible one, really, as things went. He wondered what it smelled like to other people, and flipped it over. Green apple, whatever that scent was.

He placed his shoes in his locker and sat down to put on his street shoes, thinking. Did he want to go to the rooftop, or did he want to go home? Would this Ryuuzaki really air all Light's dirty laundry in class in front of everyone? Probably (definitely). Would Light prefer it be aired in private? Did he want to allow it to be aired at all? Would he actually be able to stop this boy who had already worked out two solid facts and conducted an experiment? If he didn't cooperate, would Ryuuzaki keep inflicting stink onto him to keep testing his reactions? He really preferred it when he only had the natural stink of every moment of existence, not with the additional layer of someone fucking with him. So if he didn't go to the roof, would he be randomly subjected to more smells?

His shoes were on and he was standing, now, and he had to decide if he would turn to sneak onto the roof or turn towards home.

Home, where there was a modicum of rest.

Ryuuzaki would do what he wanted, anyway. And Light's walls were good and strong. There was no evidence that if Light did as Ryuuzaki requested that Ryuuzaki would be any less invasive. He would just double down, force himself not to react to anything Ryuuzaki did, and then the boy would lose interest and move on to… whatever he normally did when he wasn't examining Light.

He just wanted to go home.

Light left the school to walk home. His shoes sunk into the pavement like quicksand, pounds of suction pulling him deeper and deeper into the sludge.

* * *

He hadn't noticed that it had been dark for an hour by the time he climbed the steps to his front door. He hadn't heard his phone going off steadily for the last two hours. He had not noticed that it was getting colder and colder, either. If he had noticed any of those things, he might have been more prepared to find his mother standing in the doorway waiting for him, near hysterics.

He didn't hear her asking him where he'd been, asking him if he was okay. He'd never been home late before, or at least not this late, and why hadn't he answered his phone? Why had he worried her like that? And _where_ had he been? He didn't hear the questions other than a faint murmur, and he wouldn't have been able to answer them anyway- he had no way of explaining that it had simply taken him hours longer to walk home than it usually did. No, there had not been traffic, no he'd not had to take a detour. But he'd sunk up to his knees in quicksand with every step, and that had added minutes to each movement.

He let her yell at him, or yell in general, then grab him and pull him in to hold onto him. She was his mother, she had the right to be afraid when he disappeared. He heard her say something about being the son of a police officer and a target and how she'd been sure he'd been kidnapped and how he could never do that again or at least he needed to call home.

He buried his face in her shoulder, dizzy with her smell which right now was stress sweat which might actually be her actual scent at the moment. He closed his eyes and waited for it to be over. Her skin was hot on his cold skin but he felt neither of them.

Finally she released him, still holding his upper arms, and looked him over. It was rare for her to touch him, even rarer for her to grab him, but now she wasn't letting go. He watched her watching him.

She said something and her voice was calmer, so he forced himself to hear.

"Light, are you okay?"

"Yeah. Tired," he lied.

"Are you sure that's the only thing that's wrong?" she asked, looking at him hard.

He wondered if she'd see anything in his expression. Mothers were supposed to have superpowers that way, weren't they? What was the saying? A mother always knows? She'd never known before.

"I think I'm getting a cold," he said.

He'd used that a few times. It was important not to overuse it, though, or they'd take him to the doctor again, and he didn't want that. If he didn't use it too often, though, then he just got colds at a rate like normal people did, and his mother usually left him alone.

And, indeed, she dropped his arms. "Oh, honey," she said, voice getting warm. "I'm sorry I shouted, I-"

It was the last of her words that he actually heard. He nodded as she continued to speak. He nodded when she offered to bring him up soup for supper, which would probably taste like turpentine but maybe the warmth in his belly would feel good. He nodded when she led him gently to his room and to his bed, tucking him in.

"You can do your homework after some rest," she said, tucking the blankets even tighter around him. He felt like he was being tied down with rope. It constricted his chest and he couldn't breathe. He'd never thought of it before, but suffocating would definitely be his preferred method of death. Something about the thought of not breathing until he simply never breathed again…

He dozed, or something similar to it.

* * *

Light was vaguely surprised that Ryuuzaki was not on him immediately the next morning. He was surprised that no test tube was shoved under his nose. He was further surprised that Ryuuzaki never approached and that he was left alone all through lunch, as well. He'd really thought…

There.

It was at the end of the day that contact was finally made. Ryuuzaki was there, leaning on Light's shoe locker in a way that pinned the door closed. Light stopped and looked at him. Ryuuzaki stared right back, unabashed.

"Pardon me," Light said.

"You didn't come to the roof," Ryuuzaki replied. Apparently he wanted to cut to the chase.

"I went home," Light said simply.

"I was _certain_ you would come to the roof."

Light waited, using silence to say 'And?'

"I am not usually wrong, Light." Ryuuzaki's thumb came up to his lip again, pulling on it this time. "I don't enjoy being wrong."

"Most people don't," he said, rolling his shoulders. "Now, please move. I find myself saying that to you a lot, don't I?"

Ryuuzaki shook his head. "I told you we'd talk in public if you refused to speak in private, and I have questions to ask you."

"Right here in public?" Light drawled.

Ryuuzaki didn't move. "So, tell me."

"You'll have to narrow that down."

"Tell me about yourself."

Light smirked. "Well, I'm a Pisces. My blood type is A."

Ryuuzaki waited.

Light's smirk started to fade as the minutes ticked on. "Please move," he finally said again.

"Fine," Ryuuzaki said. "If you tell me why you did not come to the roof yesterday."

"I was tired," Light replied easily. He shifted his backpack on his back and met the stare unflinchingly.

Ryuuzaki shook his head. "Lie."

"I was feeling ill," Light tried again, eyes narrowing.

"Lie, you were not ill an hour before."

Light sighed aloud. "Fine. There was a family emergency, okay? My mother… you see, she's an alcoholic, and she called me very drunk and asked me to come home, and I knew if she didn't, she'd start beating my sister again…"

"You've never been struck in your life," Ryuuzaki scoffed, but he looked pleased. "Lie. But good attempt. Divert the listener by pretending to reveal something so personal that they'll assume it must be true."

That trick had always worked before. "How do you know it's a lie?"

"I know when people are lying. Always." The smirk widened. "It's a specialty of mine. Now, if you please, tell the truth so we don't have to do this any longer."

Ryuuzaki wanted the truth? Fine. "I'm not interested in being your… guinea pig. I have no obligation to satisfy your curiosity about anything, let alone my personal life. I did not come to the roof," he said, "because I did not want to. Period."

The smirk faded now, but the intent in Ryuuzaki's eyes grew deeper. "Lie," he repeated, and he gave the word such weight that it almost felt like being pushed. Light took a step back. "Why do you continue to lie when I tell you it is pointless?"

"I'm a glutton for punishment," Light shot back.

"Lie- you'd give anything to make the punishment stop."

"Well it wasn't a lie."

"Lie!"

"It wasn't!"

"Lie!"

"I'm not lying!" Light burst out. "I don't want people digging around in my life or in my head, and I don't care what you want to know about me, and I _do not_ want to come onto the roof with you and be the subject of your experimentation!"

L's face had lost any trace of amusement, but Light could feel his eyes boring into him, reading him like a book. Or trying to. He found he was breathing hard, his hands were fists at his sides. He hadn't heard his voice raised in... years, maybe. It involved too much air flow, too much attention being drawn to himself, too much loss of control.

Ryuuzaki's voice was deadly calm, quiet in the wake of Light's explosion in the empty locker room. "Lie," he said.

Light just looked at him, breathing hard.

"Now, would you care to come to the roof with me, or would you rather discuss this in a room that reeks of feet?"

Light started. He opened his mouth, closed it. He opened it again and said. "I. Thought it only smelled like that to me."

"No." Ryuuzaki looked at the ceiling as if counting the dots on the drop-down tiles. "It's quite intolerable, actually."

The way he said it and the way he looked at the ceiling as he did made the smallest huff of a laugh leave Light's chest. "Well. Then let's go out and get some fresh air."

Ryuuzaki, eyes still on the ceiling, smiled.

* * *

It was a very windy day, and if the roof hadn't been fenced in Light would have idly worried about being blown away. The air smelled like ammonia and it was chilly, but not chilly enough to drive them back inside. Light suddenly remembered to text his mother that he was staying at school late. He didn't need a repeat of the night before.

Ryuuzaki walked them to the edge of the room, directly against the tall chain link fence. He must be someone who likes to lean, Light reasoned, because the moment he could, Ryuuzaki was leaning again. This time, on the fence. His eyes ran up and down Light. Going against his impulse, Light let them.

"So," Ryuuzaki started (evidently now he _liked_ to start conversations, now that he was getting what he wanted). "I suppose first I should say that I'll change your name in the write-up."

"...Write up?"

"Of course. I am interested in your story, Light, and I will be creating a write up of everything I learn from you. You could turn out to be a very informative case. You should want to share that knowledge with the scientific community."

"Scientific community?" Light echoed. "You're writing an _article_ on me?"

Ryuuzaki's eyes went wide. "Well actually, I hope to make you a book."

Light considered this. He supposed he didn't mind being the subject of a book, though he didn't want it to be for something like this. Though, if his name were going to be changed… and what if the book ended up being useful in some way? What if someone read it and knew how to… turn it off? And got back to Ryuuzaki who then told Light?

"Two conditions," Light countered. L accented with a nod. "First, that I get to read it before you send it to be published, and if I don't approve it I may edit it or entirely veto it."

Ryuuzaki frowned. "The second?"

"The second condition is that, if anyone contacts you with a… a cure. That you have to tell me right away."

Light was pretty sure that Ryuuzaki actually grumbled. Probably about the first condition. But, he eventually nodded again.

"A verbal agreement, please," Light said, just to push him.

Ryuuzaki grit his teeth. "Fine."

"Fine."

"But only if you do not veto the book simply for the sake of vetoing it."

"I concede."

Looking mollified, Ryuuzaki gathered himself. He sat down on the lip on the edge of the building, still leaning on the fencing, and gestured for Light to do the same. Light did.

"So my first question is… what exactly are you experiencing?"

Light licked his lips. "Everything in the entire world smells bad." He shifted around a bit, getting comfortable.

"Everything?"

Light nodded.

"Can you give me a few examples?"

"People," he said instantly. "People are the worst. Very much the worst. But other animals smell bad, too, and objects. Especially man-made objects."

"What about flowers?"

"Flowers, plants. Grass. But also dirt, pavement, cement. Everyone says they like the smell of fresh-cut grass, I think, or a breeze, but to me they're just. Awful. Everything is rotting around us at every minute."

"The breeze?"

"All air. Air is full of dust, you see," Light explained. It was hard; he'd never explained it before, not to anyone. He knew he'd just sound insane. Which he was. But this boy was clearly insane himself, so even if he decided to tell other students or teachers about Light, they wouldn't believe Ryuuzaki's word over his. "And dust comes from… well, lots of things, but a lot of it is skin." His face wrinkled as he thought about it. "So whenever you breathe, you're breathing in skin from people and people are… so…"

"Stupid?"

" _Yes_ ," Light said loudly, with great relief. "People are… rotten. So incredibly, unbelievably stupid that their brains are leaking out their ears, and their brains smell like… the worst thing you can imagine."

Ryuuzaki's eyes were locked with Light's. He didn't ask Light to continue, but Light did.

"And when people make things, build things, their hands and their minds have been all over those things, those things come from their minds, and it's all just corrupt and rotten and broken and dirty. And so it stinks. Everything does, mankind has pervaded this entire world, pollution, crime… filth. Our filth is everywhere."

"Do you smell bad, Light?"

Light nodded.

"Are you stupid?"

Light shook his head.

"Then why do you smell?"

"Because I'm rotting, too."

Silence. Enough silence that Light realized how much he'd been talking. But he was being interviewed, wasn't he? So he was supposed to be talking. But then why wasn't Ryuuzaki saying anything else?

Light was about to ask what he was supposed to say next when Ryuuzaki added, "So to you, the whole world and everything in it smells… rotten? Like putrefaction?"

"No, my brain likes to change it up, I guess. Things smell different all the time, nothing stays consistent."

"How do you know what to compare different smells to?"

Light shrugged slowly. "Educated guess?"

Ryuuzaki frowned, took out a folded-up piece of paper from a pocket and a pen from a different pocket, and wrote something down.

"What?"

"We will have to test that."

"Test?"

"We must have tests," Ryuuzaki agreed. "And we will, but not today. Today is just for talking. Which brings me to my next question- when did this start?"

"My whole life," Light said. "I've never been able to pinpoint a date. I realized very early on that the world is shit. That happens when your father is a police officer. I realized that people are violent and dangerous and out of control and that they smelled _awful_. I remember when I was about six, I went to my parents and told them that the television smelled bad. They came to the living room to see what I was on about, probably they thought there was a gas leak or something, and they couldn't find any offensive odors. However, the news was on, and we all know there's never anything good on the news. But I kept insisting that something smelled horrible. I remember it, too. I'd been half-watching the TV and there had been something about a gang-related shooting and the room had suddenly smelled even more strongly that it had a moment ago. I couldn't understand why my parents didn't smell it, and I started to wonder if the world just smelled really bad? But I kept insisting, and for the next several days I just _kept_ insisting that this or that smelled awful, because I wanted someone to agree with me, you know? So my parents took me to the doctor."

"Ah, so you _have_ been examined."

Light nodded. "The doctor thought I was just being a kid, but my parents assured him that I was a very serious child and if I said I smelled something, then I must be smelling something. So they gave me a lot of tests and brain scans and all my functions and structures were normal, and there were no growths or tumors or anything wrong. They said I was having olfactory hallucinations and I would grow out of it."

"But you didn't grow out of it."

"No," he said with a tight smile. "It gets worse every year, I think. As my _childhood innocence_ fades."

That got a sardonic smile in return.

"I told them it went away. Only a few days later. I didn't want more tests, and I figured if the doctors thought it would go away and I pretended it had, no one would ever have to know. I hid it from then on."

"What made you realize that other people take pleasure in certain smells?"

"My father bought my mother perfume for her birthday one year," he said. "She sprayed it and I wanted to throw up, but everyone else there said it was lovely, and they weren't lying- I can tell when people are lying like you can and they actually liked the smell. And then I noticed from there that people would smell their food before they ate it and look happy about it. They'd make that sound they all make when something smells or tastes good. And _then_ I noticed that other people also had smells they didn't like. Like if my sister didn't want to take a bath my mother would tell her that she stank so she had to. I noticed that when they'd change her diapers they would make awful faces like the ones I made all the time in my head. And that people generally agree on what smells good and what smells bad. Except," he added thoughtfully, "in candles. People can't seem to agree on what candles smell good or bad."

Ryuuzaki nodded in agreement. "Candles are tricky. It's because they're artificial scents. Then again, no one would think that a vomit-scented candle smelled good."

Light cocked his head, gave him a half smile. "Good to know."

Ryuuzaki's eyes lingered. Light let them. They broke contact after several long beats, and Ryuuzaki removed a cellphone from his pocket to check the time. "I have kept you for too long," he said, eyes wide. "I apologize. And I am afraid I am behind my time, as well. Perhaps you would be agreeable to meeting me again tomorrow if you don't suddenly decide to go home, again?"

"Okay," Light said, and he found that he didn't actually mind. He glanced past Ryuuzaki and saw that the sun was starting to set, but just barely. It was _just_ starting to turn the sky several very beautiful colors. Faintly. Light looked at it for a few moments, just to look.

They walked to the gates of the school together.

"I go this way," Ryuuzaki said, indicating with his head in the opposite direction of Light.

"I'm the other way."

"See you tomorrow, then."

"See you tomorrow."

Maybe it was because of the sunset, but Light's shoes barely stuck to the pavement as he began to walk home and he made excellent time. He actually made it home in time for dinner, which he ate with his family. It was some kind of cardboard again, today, and yet again he wondered what it was supposed to be. His sister and his parents chatted happily and he simply sat together with them, half-listening. He didn't hear the words, but he did hear the happy tones.

After dinner, he went to his room to knock out his homework. It was easy, painfully easy, and it made his ears itch but he shook it off. He got into bed, thinking of what to do next. He could read a book- it had been ages since he had, partially because of the horrible smell that came off the paper when he opened the book and every time he turned a page. Reading could be good, though.

He was startled by a terrible noise from his phone. It was an alert, and it had just about scared him senseless so he grabbed it up to silence it. It was the mass alerting system. Amber alert.

It felt like being plunged into ice-cold water: a moment of protest and then simply numbness. He turned on the television and flipped to the news, and there was an update about it at that very moment. A kidnapping. Another one. A child taken from her mother by a car meeting a certain description, right behind the mother's turned back. He hurriedly turned off the TV before his mouth could fill with slime and his nose with acid. He got out the book he'd been reading months ago, instead, and opened to the page he'd left off at, coughing a few times to clear away that smell, too. But his mind wouldn't focus. What good were stories? Either they were a meaningless escape or they were just a regurgitation of the same rotten world. Either way, when the book got put down, the real world was still shit.

He put the book down and, like he'd expected, same rotten world, still shit. He threw it across the room where it collided with his wall with a clatter and dropped back down against his bed, hard. He should just go to sleep, whatever time it was. The more he could sleep the less he could be awake and the less he could… the less the world could.

He slammed his eyes shut and waited.

Waited to sleep.

Waited to sleep.

Slept.

Not well.

* * *

He woke up the next day as if he hadn't slept at all the previous night. His entire body felt heavy, as if soaked in water. His alarm was blaring so he just listened to it for a while, debating about getting up or not getting up. He could just stay in bed. He hadn't missed school in ages, so maybe he could just close his eyes and go back to sleep. Maybe then he'd be ready to go for the following day.

He closed his eyes to test it out, but he could tell immediately that he wasn't going to be able to sleep. The time had thoroughly passed. Still, he laid in bed until the last possible moment, only then peeling himself out of it and dressing, perfecting, and forcing down a very fast breakfast.

Arriving at school, Light noticed with a twinge of some emotion that Ryuuzaki was absent. He shrugged and took his seat and allowed the day to pass around him, unremarkable, entirely.

Until lunch, anyway, when everything suddenly became very much not unremarkable, in fact very remarkable, when Ryuuzaki suddenly appeared in the seat across from him.

He appeared so suddenly and quietly, in fact, that Light examined him hard to make sure he wasn't a hallucination. That wasn't proof, though, so instead he said, quite loudly, "Hello."

It was loud enough that someone at another table was startled and turned around to see who he was greeting. Light watched out of the corner of his eye as the person looked at him and then, to Light's relief, at Ryuuzaki. Today was not the day for the hallucinations to finally begin, then.

"Do you often hallucinate, Light?" Ryuuzaki asked, tugging at his bottom lip. "I do mean visually."

"No," Light answered. "Not yet."

Ryuuzaki hummed, and Light could have sworn it almost sounded disappointed. "Not yet?" he asked with a hint of hope.

"I'm sure I'll snap in a year or two," Light mused. "You can stalk me until then and if you're lucky you'll be there to see the moment I really go off the deep end." He took a sip of his water to cover up the slight smile.

"Two years is a while. Can you make it six months?"

Light pretended to consider it. "If you can arrange for me to be held back a year, I can show you complete insanity in as little as three."

"Consider it done," Ryuuzaki chirped, and picked up his cake with his fingers and shoved it into his mouth and chomped. It was the single best example of bad table manners that Light had ever seen and he couldn't help but stare. Ryuuzaki swallowed and it was with an incredibly audible 'gulp.' He shoved another cake in after giving it a few odd squeezes.

He had a lot of cake. He actually had nothing but cake? No, there was also a macaroon in his lunch box. His parents must not be involved in the packing of this lunch, certainly. How was he so skinny? Maybe he was bulimic?

"You weren't here this morning," Light commented. Maybe he was home sick. He couldn't have much of an immune system if this is how he always ate.

"That is correct," Ryuuzaki agreed through a full mouth. Bits of cake flew from it and Light cringed at that and the faint metallic scent that went with it. It seemed that no cake had actually landed on Light, though, which was good because it probably would have made the three months until insanity more like a few seconds, tops.

"So where were you?"

"Home."

"Were you sick?"

"No."

"Were you playing hooky?"

Ryuuzaki considered this. "Possibly. Though as I am not under any obligation to attend this school, 'hooky' may not be an entirely applicable term."

"You don't have to be here?"

Ryuuzaki shook his head.

"Then… Ryuuzaki why in the _world_ would you come?" He didn't have to come, but he still did? Ryuuzaki willingly came, occasionally, to _this place_ when he could just be at home or wherever else he spent his time? He came to _this_ infested, putrid, moronic place just… for what? Light literally could not imagine a sufficient reason to attend other than the fact that his life would fall apart without a high school diploma.

"I am not under any obligations," Ryuuzaki amended, "but my guardian strongly recommends that I attend on occasion." His eyes drifted up to the ceiling in that strange way of his again. "He says I require socialization."

Light didn't even bother commenting on that. "So you're homeschooled."

"I am." Another piece of cake became Ryuuzaki's victim. Surely he was running out of it by now? Light tried to calculate the number of calories he was ingesting but stopped when it made him feel vaguely ill. He knew that most people liked cake, but surely there was a reason he'd never seen anyone eat it as their entire lunch…

"Is that why the teacher didn't introduce you? Because you're not really a new student?"

"It is. I can go wherever I like and I had never visited your classroom before that day."

"Is that normal?"

A smirk that Light was beginning to think of as the 'I Know Something I Am Not Telling You' smirk. "No."

"So why do you get to-"

"Come to the roof today and perhaps I'll tell you."

He didn't miss the inclusion of the 'perhaps.' He felt that coming from this boy, that was almost certainly a 'no.'

"Fine," Light said, and then he did something he'd never done before in his life: He stood up from his seat and said, "Then let's go to the roof."

Ryuuzaki looked up at him. "…Now?"

"Now," Light said. "Right now."

"But Light," Ryuuzaki said, and his voice took on a sickly sweet, condescending tone, laced with just a little of what Light could only describe as heat, "You're a regular student."

"I am _not_ ," Light shot back, voice unmovable, "a regular student. Not in any way you look at it. If you're exempt from mandatory attendance then I am as well. Now, the roof. Unless you don't want to get into my head anymore."

He didn't wait. The garbage from his lunch stank so he left it on the table, it was a day of firsts. He spun around and marched directly out of the lunchroom.

Every single teacher that saw him go assumed he had a good reason and a pass. He was Light Yagami, after all, and he was not a regular student.

Ryuuzaki followed behind him at a slouch, and Light hoped that he was damned impressed at how each and every teacher simply smiled at Light as Light blatantly left the lunch room, the floor containing the lunch room, and then the designated student area. The door that contained the stairway to get to the roof was locked so Light simply marched to the janitor's closet, removed the ring of keys, marched back to the door, and unlocked it. He gave the keys to a passing teacher and held the door open for Ryuuzaki.

Silently, Ryuuzaki entered, and together they climbed the stairway to the roof. Once there, Light turned around.

"Now," he said, unable to keep the pride and pleasure out of his voice. "Tell me more about how you own this school."

Ryuuzaki rolled his eyes. "Yes, I am very impressed," he drawled, but Light suspected that he really might be. "Light is above suspicion, he is-"

"Next time," he replied with a completely straight face, "I'll get the teacher to fetch the keys _for_ me."

He felt a stab of pride when Ryuuzaki had nothing to say to that. Instead, he went to the fence and sat down in the same place he'd sat before. Light followed.

"You are cutting class," he observed.

Light shrugged, sitting down next to him.

"You could get in trouble."

"I won't."

"But you could."

"Well if I do, I'll just throw you under the bus."

"Oh, don't do that," Ryuuzaki drawled. "I could be expelled."

Light pounced on this. "So why does the school let you attend when you aren't a student, just because your guardian wants you to get human contact?"

"Come to my home this weekend and ask him yourself."

"…You want me to come to your house?"

Ryuuzaki nodded. "I believe it would be an informative evening. We could run some field tests." He looked pleased about the idea.

"Field tests?"

"Experiments," he offered. "We can test your scent aversion. You must agree that it would be an interesting."

Probably.

Ryuuzaki didn't wait, handing Light a folded-up note. He opened it to reveal an address and a phone number.

"What percentage of this did you plan?" Light asked, tucking the note into his pocket.

Ryuuzaki considered it. "Seventy-five percent. I did not expect us to cut class, however."

"Well, I didn't expect to cut class, either." But now that he was… He looked out over the roof of the school. He could see city, and green, and it was _bright_ out. Blindingly bright. It was actually a beautiful day and Light took a moment to simply look at it. "Fine, I'll come to your house this weekend."

"Excellent!"

There was genuine enthusiasm in Ryuuzaki's voice, and that made Light feel a little bit warm. "And I'll let you conduct any tests on me that you'd like. But in exchange, you have to answer any question I come up with." Because Light was sensing that there might be even more to the story than Ryuuzaki was currently letting on. Who was allowed to just come to a school at will, sit in on some classes to make friends, and leave?

"Actually," Light said. Why not go all the way with this? "Let's go now."

Ryuuzaki stood. "Light is feeling rebellious today. Well, I'll capitalize on it. Shall we waltz out of the building?"

They did. Light didn't even make an excuse. He simply smiled at teachers as he passed, acted like there was absolutely no reason he should _not_ be exiting the front door of the school in the middle of classes with all his belongings. No one tried to stop them, and if they had, Light already had a dozen ideas about how to stop their stopping them.

As it was, none of the ideas became necessary. When they got to the gates of the school, where previously Ryuuzaki had turned left and Light had turned right, they both went left together.


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: I do not own Death Note.**

* * *

Light hadn't actively been expecting anything, but he most _certainly_ had not been expecting what he found when he arrived at Ryuuzaki's house.

First, he had not expected the exterior of the house to be so incredibly and entirely ordinary. There was nothing visually different about it at all. It was nearly indistinguishable from every other house on the street, and in fact if it had not had address numbers Light was not convinced even Ryuuzaki would be able to find it. It was moderate-sized and impeccably well-maintained: the grass was the exact correct length, the garden was perfect, and there was no sign of peeling paint or a single loose board or shingle.

The inside was similarly not-weird, and it was really starting to freak Light out. Someone as strange as Ryuuzaki had to come from a strange home, right? Apparently not. It was entirely ordinary, at least what Light could see from the entrance. He was still holding out hope for Ryuuzaki's bedroom or perhaps a scary corner of the basement. He'd ask, if he couldn't find it, because there _had_ to be something. And Ryuuzaki would be required to tell him.

He took off his shoes instantly, and Light did the same out of habit, but Light was surprised when Ryuuzaki didn't announce his arrival. Maybe it was because he was cutting class? But no, because now Ryuuzaki was leading them down a hallway (no pictures, Light noticed suddenly, not a single one, it was actually really unnerving) and to a wood-paneled office.

"Watari?"

The elderly man—Watari—turned around in his rolling chair, smiling at Ryuuzaki under a moustache. He was… very not Japanese. Light looked between Ryuuzaki and Watari and there was definitely no family resemblance. So this guardianship situation was not based on blood, then. Was Ryuuzaki adopted? But adoptees didn't usually refer to their parents as their guardians… was he a foster child?

"Ryuuzaki," he said. "You're home early."

Light was surprised that the conversation was in English, and the accent was British, but given the intense whiteness of Watari he shouldn't have been.

"I am," Ryuuzaki answered. "Light and I decided we'd had enough for the day."

Watari looked at Light, now, and Light wondered if he was going to be reported truant. Would Ryuuzaki walk him into a trap like that? In faltering Japanese, Watari said, "It's nice to meet you. My name is Watari. I see you and Ryuuzaki are skipping class."

Light smiled at him. "I'm very good at English, Watari," he said in his flawless English. "We can stick with that if you're more comfortable."

Watari sighed audibly. "I appreciate it," he said, switching to English as well. "We only moved here six months ago, and I'm afraid my mind is not as sharp as it once was and Japanese is not sticking as well as I'd like."

"It'll be a good opportunity to practice for my exams," Light said politely.

Ryuuzaki rolled his eyes hugely.

Watari didn't miss this.

"We're going to my room," Ryuuzaki announced. "Just stopped by to let you know that I'm meeting my socialization objectives and Light is being a rebellious teenager."

"Good job meeting your socialization objectives," Watari said, turning his chair back around to his desk. "On a related note, I have no knowledge of any people that may be with you at this moment, especially any truant students."

Ryuuzaki smiled, shook his head, and led Light to his room. Light followed.

"Are you more comfortable with Japanese or English?" Light asked as they made their way through the house.

"I'm indifferent."

Light narrowed his eyes at him. "You've only lived here six months."

"I pick up on language quickly," he explained simply. "At this point, I am almost as fluent in Japanese as I am in English. Unless, perhaps, we were to get into obscure technical terms. For example, I am sure you know more Japanese terms for small engineering components than I do." He glanced up at him through his mop of hair. (Would he be taller than Light if he stood up straight? It was hard to guess.) "Your English accent, by the way, is unsettling."

"And I'll admit, I thought you were native Japanese."

They nodded briefly at each other, mutually approving.

Ryuuzaki opened his door and _there_ was the chaos that Light had been expecting.

Ryuuzaki's room was a disaster zone. Of course, there were clothes strewn everywhere (oddly, it seemed all the clothes were white shirts, jeans, and nothing else), which was pretty par for the course for any teenage boy who wasn't Light. More interestingly, there was an inordinate number of candy wrappers. There were _piles_ of candy wrappers strewn throughout the room, as if he was a huge enormous disgusting slob but only in predetermined areas and neat stacks. Maybe a compromise with Watari? In addition to the unholy piles of candy wrappers, there was a breathtaking number of books.

Over the course of his admittedly short life, Light had noticed that people who collected (hoarded) books usually kept them in fairly good condition. Usually, people who owned hundreds of books had them on shelves, or at least near shelves, or at _least_ in piles. Ryuuzaki, however, apparently liked to simply drop his books and leave them wherever they landed. Plenty of them were closed, but at least half of them were crumpled, open and lying face-down. Ryuuzaki didn't read, Light learned, he _devoured_ , and then he left the corpse to do as it would.

Light looked over at him, and he was watching Light watch his room and take in information. He could see him cataloguing his cataloguing.

"You mistreat books," Light observed simply.

"Books don't matter," Ryuuzaki countered. "It's the words inside them that are important, so who cares what happens to the shell?"

Light wanted to watch him read some time. He bet it wasn't like when other people read.

"Your room is a hellhole," he said, instead of commenting on the abuse of the books.

"And you," the boy countered yet again, "are obsessively clean. How do you feel about my room?"

Light looked it over. He looked at the floor that had seemingly never met a vacuum. He looked at the walls that were haphazardly covered with diagrams, charts, maps, the Periodic Table of Elements, and a small, framed print of Van Gogh's _Memory of the Garden of Eden_. He looked at the desk, which boasted a computer that Light could practically _feel_ from here covering half of it and a majestic pyramid of Hello Panda boxes covering slightly more than the other half. He looked at the bed, which had a majority of the clothes with just about a quarter available for sitting or sleeping. He looked at the open closet which was completely, one hundred percent empty.

"I like it," he said honestly.

And he did. For some reason, he liked this room. By all means, there was nothing to like about it. Really, in addition to being unclean, disorganized, and unsanitary, it smelled faintly of feet. It was unusable to a guest and Light was willing to bet that it was largely unusable to Ryuuzaki himself. Nevertheless, Light did like it.

"But I hope you don't expect to conduct your experiments here."

"Nope," Ryuuzaki said cheerfully, using a bare foot to shove his piles of assorted candy and books away from his desk chair. He spun it around and gestured for Light to sit on it. Miraculously, it was cleared off.

Light gingerly picked through Ryuuzaki's room and sat where he was instructed to. He watched as Ryuuzaki struggled over to the bed, nearly tripping and braining himself on the corner of his desk. He recovered and did a leap, finally making it to his bed. The moment he was there, he started digging around in his clothes pile, removing a crumpled but clean-looking white, long-sleeve shirt. He quickly stripped off his uniform shirt and put on the new one, sighing in relief. "The uniform is the bane of my existence," he informed Light.

"Yeah…" Light had no complaints about the uniform, but he supposed if he'd never been forced to wear one daily, before…. His eyes slid to the jeans that were in the clothes pile. Was Ryuuzaki going to change pants, too…?

Ryuuzaki smirked.

Light looked elsewhere, but not quickly. Looking away quickly was the quickest way to make it look like you'd been staring. He wondered if Ryuuzaki's ability to lie extended to glances or if it was strictly limited to the verbal realm.

"Don't worry, Light. Watari has me at least socialized enough to know that I can't take my pants off in front of just anyone."

"Good on Watari," Light replied easily. He sat primly, as if growing bored. "Otherwise your promising career in… whatever… would be rudely cut short by a criminal record of public indecency."

"Tell me, what do you think that promising career involves?"

Light took another look around the room, this time focusing on the spines and covers of the books. _The Criminal Mind. Psychopaths and their Behaviors. Evolutionary Psychology. Forensics. The Practical Handbook of Bee Culture: With Some Observations on the Segregation of the Queen. Anatomy and Physiology. Developmental psychology…_

"Psychology," Light said. "But it's a little boring to be prodigious at psychology. Certainly nothing that would get you out of school… so I'm going to guess criminal justice."

"Very good." Ryuuzaki followed Light's eyes. "And yes, you may correct that book near your left foot, Light."

Light looked up at him. He cocked his head and instead of fixing the book, he kicked it, sending it flying.

Ryuuzaki watched the book's arc across the room with mild interest. "Not a book fancier, are we?"

"I almost never read for pleasure," Light said. "Books smell horrible."

"Mm, that is one of those times where you are in the minority, Light. Most people like the smell of books, especially older ones. Pretentious people like to pretend to sniff them covertly where lots of people can see them because they think it makes them look literary."

"I did that once," Light reflected. "I was trying to look literary. I probably just looked ill, though, because books almost always make me gag."

Ryuuzaki smirked. "Always pretending, aren't you?"

"Nearly," Light agreed. "But less with you."

"I am honored, I'm sure," Ryuuzaki said lightly.

"I'm sure."

"Did you and Watari move here because of this promising career?"

Ryuuzaki stood, drew a leg up, brought it under himself. He wriggled around a bit until he was crouching on his bed like he always crouched in class. "Yes."

"How?

"Simple, Light, we got on a plane."

That particular voice made Light sort of want to lunge out of the chair and kill him. "Okay, fine, if you want to be an ass about it: how was your moving to Japan related to your future, brilliant career in criminal justice?"

Ryuuzaki locked eyes with Light and his thumb went to his bottom lip. For a moment, Light was not certain that Ryuuzaki was going to answer. Light was already thinking up ways to manipulate the answer out of him when-

"I have a case," he said.

Light's eyes narrowed. "A case."

"A case," he confirmed.

"Like… a case with the police?"

"Yes. I am consulting with the police on a case, and the case is in Japan, and so my guardian and I moved from England to Japan to assist the police in their investigations. Or," he smirked, "to allow the police to consult with _me_ on _my_ investigations."

That was impressive. Ryuuzaki couldn't have been much older than Light, if he was older at all, but the police were using his brain to solve actual crimes, on an actual case? "Wait," Light said. "You moved here six months ago. And you still haven't caught the criminal?"

"Allow me to clarify. We moved to Japan for a specific case. A case which I solved nearly single-handedly in three days. Since then, I have been of assistance in multiple other matters. When I am not at school, which is of course most of the time, I am working on this."

"So you're a detective with his own practice," Light said. "And the police consult you."

"Yes."

"So you're Sherlock Holmes."

That got an actual, legitimate smile from Ryuuzaki, including teeth. "Yes, I am."

"And you're just as modest as he was in the books," Light added. He crossed his legs, pretending to be unimpressed, although if asked he would admit that pretending not to be impressed when he _was_ so impressed was… impressively difficult. "Well, I've never heard of you." Light shrugged.

"Are you sure? I do know your father."

"He's never mentioned you. You can't be _that_ helpful to the police if my father has never even mentioned you."

That irritating smirk was back.

"What?"

"Well you see, Light, I go by Ryuuzaki at school because it's easier for our weak-witted classmates. At work, however, I go by L."

Oh.

Well fuck.

"You look like you have heard of me," Ryuuzaki said.

"Nope." Light shrugged, though between Ryuuzaki's ability to see through all lies and the fact that Light's face was probably white as a sheet, he was pretty sure his game was pointless.

"You very much look like you have heard of me."

"I haven't."

"Are you sure?" Ryuuzaki asked. "Because that is the face people usually make when they have-"

"I've never heard of L," Light said. "And frankly I'm finding this conversation a little bit boring. I came over here thinking I was going to talk to your guardian, for one thing, and now I find myself ferried up to your room. I was also expecting an interesting story, but instead I just find out that you're some mediocre detective or something, and you moved here to solve crimes because England wouldn't have you. I wish I were still at school."

Ryuuzaki actually chuckled.

"Was that last bit too much?" Light asked, smiling.

"I could almost believe you as uninterested in my accomplishments, but I can't believe you wishing yourself back at school."

" _Such_ a brilliant detective," Light praised. "No wonder they let you run around the school and mistreat books."

Ryuuzaki leaned backwards, dropping his head against the wall in mock-exasperation. "Are you quite finished?"

"Yes, very much so. In fact I think I'll be leaving-"

There was a knock on Ryuuzaki's door, and it was not followed by anyone bursting in.

"Now I definitely know he's not your father," Light said. "Watari actually waits for you to say he can come in before he does it."

"It's quite convenient," Ryuuzaki agreed. "Come in, Watari."

The old man appeared holding a tray. "Where in the godforsaken wasteland to which you generously refer as a bedroom would you like me to leave this?" he asked, and somehow he managed to sound completely courteous about it.

Ryuuzaki looked side to side. "By the door, I suppose," he said cautiously. "If you can find a place… no, I'll just take it." He stood, carefully picking his way through his piles, leaning over a particularly large one to reach and accept the tray.

Watari, the picture of long-suffering patience, handed over the tray. Somehow the pass-off went without a hitch. They had probably done this many, many times before.

" _Please_ put the tray _and the plates_ outside your door when you've finished with them," he asked. Ryuuzaki made a sound that was neither agreement nor disagreement. "There are two slices, in case you want to share with any invisible truant students who may or may not be visiting with you."

"Thanks, my imaginary friend loves cake."

Taking that for as good as he'd get, Watari left, closing the door behind him.

Light watched as Ryuuzaki gingerly picked his way over to him, treacherously balancing a small tray containing two plates, both of which contained a generous slice of strawberry cake.

"No, thank you," Light said.

Ryuuzaki stared at him as if he had two heads.

"I don't like cake," Light added.

Now Light apparently had four heads. He waited for Ryuuzaki to get over it and move on. It didn't happen quickly, though.

"I don't really care for sweets," Light finally said, when Ryuuzaki seemed to be frozen in time and space.

Light had spouted two more heads, or possibly he had just bitten the head off of a rat and sucked out its blood.

"What… do you _like,_ then?" Ryuuzaki frowned. "Are you one of those people who prefers salty snacks? Because unfortunately my room has a strict policy against-"

"No," Light assured him. "I just don't really like food in general. So if cake doesn't taste better to me than, say, eggplant, then obviously I should eat the eggplant that my body really needs."

Ryuuzaki shook his head, crossing to his bed. He balanced the tray on a pile of clothes and got onto his bed, taking one of the plates and balancing that in turn on his knees. "You must be in incredible physical condition," Ryuuzaki said through a mouthful of cake. "Do you ever catch a cold?"

"Plenty."

Ryuuzaki mulled this over. The cake was already half-gone. How could he eat it that quickly? Cake tasted like sand- Light needed lots of water to get it down, ever, and Ryuuzaki had nothing at all to drink. "Ah," the boy said after a few moments of thought and cake consumption. "I suppose it's the depression, then."

"I'm not depressed," Light informed him.

"Mental state has a huge effect on the immune system. "It's basic psychology."

"There is nothing wrong with my immune system."

"If you never eat anything unhealthy, you must have a _remarkable_ BMI… do you exercise?"

"My BMI is wholly unremarkable," Light protested. "It is incredibly average and no, other than PE and walking home from school I never exercise."

"Ah, fatigue," Ryuuzaki said knowingly. "Probably from-"

"I'm not depressed!"

Ryuuzaki smirked. "From lack of sugar intake."

"That… is not how sugar works."

"No? You're right, it's probably the depression, then."

Light opened and closed his mouth a few times. "Are we here to write a book or aren't we?" he finally landed on, and Ryuuzaki had to concede.

"We are. Is Light ready to undergo testing?"

"Yes," he said. Anything to change the direction of this conversation. And it was only fair, really. He'd learned a lot about Ryuuzaki (he was L. _What_?) and Ryuuzaki wanted to know about his 'scent aversion.'

"Very good. Please come with me."

Apparently the testing wasn't going to take place in his room? Then why had they gone there in the first place? Had it just been to wait for cake and change his shirt? The cake was gone and so was Light's. Light hadn't even seen him eat the second piece.

Ryuuzaki jumped delicately around his piles until he was out of the room, waiting for him just out of the doorway. Light followed with as much dignity as possible.

"You're supposed to bring out your tray," Light reminded him, just to irritate him.

"Light, _you_ can come over any time," Light heard Watari's voice faintly say from the next room. Ryuuzaki heard it too, and his good-natured eye-roll was directed at both of them. It was so loud that Light suspected Watari could hear it through the wall.

"Don't you roll your eyes at me."

This sobered Ryuuzaki considerably. "Unsettling, isn't it?" he asked quietly, and Light couldn't stifle a chuckle.

Ryuuzaki resumed leading the way. As Light had sort of expected, he began to lead them down a flight of stairs.

"Is this the part where you take me to a basement dungeon and murder me?"

"No, that's next week Thursday."

The stairs opened up to a really very ordinary basement, which Light didn't even bother to spend much time glancing around. However, in one corner of the basement was a table, and on that table was a whole collection of vials. There was also a notebook, a pen, and two chairs.

It wasn't hard to deduce what Ryuuzaki was going to ask Light to do, so he simply went ahead and took his seat.

"I'm ready," he stated.

Ryuuzaki sat across from him, crunched up on his chair in what Light was coming to understand was his usual pose. He handed Light a vial. Light took it.

"First, we will be testing for consistency," Ryuuzaki said. "By which I mean, do the same things smell the same to Light every time?"

"I can already answer that," Light replied. "I _have_ already answered that."

"Not in a controlled setting," Ryuuzaki disagreed. "You should know, it's not proper science without a controlled trial."

"But it will be self-report," Light shot back. "So it's barely useful as it is."

"But the thing that we are testing is your subjective experience so your subjective experience is all that matters."

"It should really be double-blind," Light scolded.

"Smell the vial."

Light sighed dramatically, uncorked it, and brought it to his nose. His eyes instantly filled with tears and he slammed the cork back onto the vial, gasping. It was hard to breathe, as if the smell had filled up his lungs with liquid so he couldn't properly inhale.

"Next time, don't put it directly under your nose," Ryuuzaki suggested.

Light couldn't stop coughing long enough to swear at him, so he gave him a rude gesture instead.

"That was uncalled for."

"What am I supposed to tell you, now?" Light finally managed to croak out. "What that smelled like?"

"No. I want you to smell this next vial and tell me if it contains the same scent or a different one."

He took the next vial and opened it more carefully, but scent still came pouring out of it. This time it felt his lungs were being taken in a vice grip, squeezed together by a fist, punctured by fingernails. He'd inhaled sand and now he was drowning in it. He plugged the vial up as quickly as he could.

"Different," he said. "Though I am sure they were actually the same smell."

"Why are you sure of that?" Ryuuzaki asked with interest.

"Because you'd start with the thing you're most interested in, and that's my perception of the same smell two times."

"Incorrect," Ryuuzaki said. Light felt he didn't need to sound so pleased about it. "Those were in fact two different scents. Do you care to take a guess as to what they were?"

Light shrugged. "One smelled like death and one smelled like shit," he said sardonically. "I can't imagine what they actually were."

"One was vanilla," Ryuuzaki said, "and one was cinnamon. Both considered pleasant scents, both considered mild ones at that. Both food. If this is how food smells to you, Light, I don't wonder why you hate it." He nodded. "Now, I will present you with a third vial. It is either vanilla or cinnamon. I want you to tell me which. If you don't know, tell me you don't know."

Light eyed him but took the vial, cracking the top off just a little, taking a quick whiff, and sealing it off quickly. That was much better. The smell was milder this time, and it didn't make it feel like his world was ending. It was the smell of a toxic gas all the same and it made his throat burn, but at last he was still able to breathe. "I don't know," he admitted.

"If you had to guess?"

Light thought about it. Was toxic gas was more similar to death or to shit? He shook his head. "It would be purely a guess."

Ryuuzaki hummed and took the vial away. "Alright. So from that we concluded that Light cannot identify something by its scent, nor does the same scent smell the same to him from instance to instance."

"There's only one trial? I thought we were doing real science, here."

"More trials would be boring," Ryuuzaki said dismissively, and Light had to agree that that was probably true. "Next, I want to know: do similar scents smell similar, or do they not?"

He had never been able to group smells by similarity so he'd never tested it, himself. And, like he'd told Ryuuzaki, Light had never really been interested in testing the scope of this until now. Quite the opposite, in fact.

"I will give you three smells, and you will tell me if they smell similar to each other or different."

Light complied. The first smelled like body odor and PE. The second smelled like a sewer. The third smelled like day-old urine. Light told him so.

"These were three different flowers," Ryuuzaki told him. "All of which smell quite similar and quite agreeable. So far there seems to be no correlation between the actual stimulus and what your brain perceives."

"I've noticed," Light said flatly.

"Is there a smell that you find pleasant?"

Light shook his head.

"Think for a moment."

"I don't have to think for a moment," Light scolded. "Just because I'm not a world-renowned genius doesn't mean I have to make a decision tree every time I try to formulate an answer to a question. Based on my lifetime of experience, there is nothing that smells good. And since nothing consistently smells one way or another, there isn't even anything that smells sort of less bad than other things."

"Okay." Ryuuzaki looked at a clock that was apparently behind Light. "Text your mother," he said. "You got in trouble last time."

"How did you…" He shook his head, but he did so. It was about the time that he should be getting home on an ordinary day. This afternoon was flying by. Skipping class was _fun_.

"Next."

"Next, I want to test the intensity of…"

They ran more tests. They ran _lots_ of tests. Ryuuzaki took diligent notes, though Light was sure that he could simply have remembered the results. They concluded that the intensity of a smell- whether there was a lot of the odor-causing substance in the vial or a little of the odor-causing substance in the vial- made an appreciable difference in how intolerable it was to Light. They tested that one extensively. They also learned that Light was _not_ a reliable describer of scents, because once he described something as skunk Ryuuzaki instantly produced a vial of skunk scent and they did not smell the same, and Light felt he'd never smelled the skunk vial smell before.

Finally, Light had sniffed every vial Ryuuzaki placed in front of him, and Ryuuzaki sat back with a content sigh. "That was an extremely satisfactory baseline. We have conclusively determined that the only time your sense of smell is at all aligned with reality is when measuring the intensity… or rather density… of a scent. You could effectively rank smells from strongest to weakest, but in all other ways you are completely useless."

"In all other ways, hm?"

"Relating to scent," Ryuuzaki droned. "I apologize, Light, I didn't mean to hurt your feelings."

He was being condescending so Light simply went on. "What other kinds of tests are you interested in performing?"

"Nothing that can be done tonight." Ryuuzaki stood, straightening his back for a moment. It caused a half-dozen little pops from his spine, making Light's teeth ache. "But as I said, this was only a baseline. The really interesting thing about your scent aversion is that you detect smells where they are not, based upon your emotions. That will require field tests."

Light nodded slowly, standing up as well.

"I shall accompany you out," Ryuuzaki said in a sudden fit of politeness. They went upstairs and the moment they opened the door, Light was overwhelmed by the scent of… well, it was pointless to try and describe it, he'd learned.

Ryuuzaki made an appreciative noise. "Chicken," he informed Light, who was hesitating behind Ryuuzaki, torn between taking deep breaths to try and acclimatize and pushing Ryuuzaki aside to simply flee the building. He was sure Ryuuzaki would understand.

The boy looked back at him. "Watari makes me eat at least one actual meal per day. And I do rather enjoy chicken."

Light peered over Ryuuzaki's shoulder to find himself in the kitchen. It was warm, and Watari was wearing… an apron? And he looked pretty natural doing it. Was it an English thing, or Watari's ability to maintain dignity at all times? Or was that the English thing?

"Excellent timing," the old man said. "Light, would you care to stay for dinner?"

Light looked at Ryuuzaki who looked back at him. There was interest in his eyes. Ryuuzaki probably wanted to observe his eating and see what Light liked and didn't like, since he was so interested before in Light's dislike of food. Light wasn't hungry after inhaling thousands of horrible smells at Ryuuzaki's bidding, but it was dinner time and he did need to eat, and chicken was generally healthy.

Watari, too, looked like he was making a genuine offer. This was probably because he wanted Ryuuzaki to make friends.

Maybe he could.

"I'd love to," Light said with far more graciousness than he felt. "If it's not too much trouble."

"None at all," Watari replied. "We would love to have you."

"Pleasantries," Ryuuzaki sighed hugely. "Disgusting."

Watari pointed at Ryuuzaki with the tongs he was using to take the chicken out of its baking dish. "You could use some more of that. That's why he's invited to stay for supper."

Light saw there were three place settings. Maybe Ryuuzaki wasn't the only one with the uncanny ability to know things he shouldn't know. He sat in the one he deduced did not belong to Watari or Ryuuzaki and soon there was food on his plate.

Almost immediately, Light regretted accepting the invitation. At his own home, he simply had to make sure he wasn't grimacing. If he did grimace, his very-ordinary family wouldn't notice. Here, he had to actually look like he was enjoying the food or he'd offend the host. He should have just gone home. He looked down at the chicken on his plate and his stomach turned. A lump of dead flesh coated in sauce made from fungus and cream. He felt the sick creep up his throat and swallowed, knowing it wasn't real (he'd never once actually thrown up because of a smell, though he'd gotten close a very few times). Don't be a baby, Light, it was just food. Just eat it. He should really become a vegetarian or maybe a vegan, because then he could refuse and people would think it was because of the cruelty to animals and not because the very existence of any type of food was nearly intolerable to him.

He made sure to keep his face very, very pleasant as he picked up- huh- a fork and carefully speared a mushroom. Face still pleasant, he placed it in his mouth and chewed. He chewed until the damp Styrofoam turned into little pieces of damp Styrofoam.

He looked up. Watari and Ryuuzaki were both staring at him- Watari being pretty subtle about it, Ryuuzaki being anything but.

Light cleared his throat uncomfortably. "Yes?" he asked.

"I've never watched you eat before," Ryuuzaki answered readily.

"Are you a vegetarian?" Watari asked. "I'm terribly sorry, I didn't even think of asking."

"What's wrong with how I eat?" Light asked. "And no, I'm not."

Ryuuzaki spoke to Watari without looking away from Light: "He's not a vegetarian, Watari. He has a rare sensory processing condition that makes all food completely repellant to him. Now, Light, more importantly, are you aware that you look like a serial killer when you're eating?"

" _What_?" Light demanded.

Watari sighed.

"You do."

"So… what? I look like I'm going to start murdering people when I'm eating? I look maniacal? Do I look like I'm imagining the food is you?"

"Don't be ridiculous. Obviously if you looked psychotic while eating, someone would have pointed it out before now, even in Japan. No, Light, you look like a serial killer because you look…" He searched for the words. He'd never heard Ryuuzaki search for words, before. Admittedly, he hadn't known him very long. "Alarmingly normal."

"I look to normal, so I look like a serial killer?" Light argued.

"Don't pretend you don't know what I mean."

He did. He'd watched enough interviews with serial killers to recognize what Ryuuzaki meant by 'too normal.' Forced normal. Almost good enough to pass but not quite enough, not if someone already knew to look.

He looked back down at his food and cut a piece of chicken, popping it into his mouth. This time, he tried very, very hard to pretend he wasn't even eating something. The Styrofoam filled his mouth again and the texture of the chicken gave him, mentally, that same squeaking sound in his mouth, but he was sure he was being really normal, now.

"Too defiant to really blend in," Ryuuzaki said, shaking his head. "But good try. Really though, Light, you needn't pretend. There's no reason to."

Cautiously, Light let down the mask. He pretended he was alone and there was no reason to be polite.

"Ah, you hate it," Watari said.

"I do," Light said. "But it's very good. Probably."

"It is," Ryuuzaki agreed. "It tastes like chicken, which tastes about as mild as something can taste. However, it has more flavor than boiled or steamed chicken because it was seared in a pan. The small amount of burning gives it a sharper taste. The mushrooms taste earthy, a little like dirt. The sauce is also salty, which is another sharp taste which makes you feel thirsty. It is cream based. Cream is a little bit sweet, but not too sweet, and feels kind of soft in your mouth."

Light nodded slowly. He didn't really understand, but he understood better than he had before, and that was a strange feeling. "I see."

"Do you?" Ryuuzaki asked with interest.

"A little," he admitted. "But to me it still just tastes like Styrofoam."

Light took a bite and cringed, and the other two men at the table smiled.

They ate for a while, and Ryuuzaki and Watari discussed something about Ryuuzaki's- L's- current case, something about a birthday murderer, leaving Light to struggle through his meal in peace. He could feel that Ryuuzaki was watching him out of the corner of his eye, though.

Because Light wasn't talking and the other two were, Light finished first.

"Are you still hungry?" Watari asked, taking note of the now-empty plate.

"He's never hungry," Ryuuzaki said. "Imagine if all the food in the world tasted like various forms of non-food objects and everything in the world smelled like it was rotting."

Watari's moustache ruffled a bit and Light figured he was curling his lip thinking about it.

"I almost always clean my plate," Light explained, because it seemed both of them were fairly interested. "Since I never know if I'm hungry or not, I decided it was better to err on the side of caution and overeat a little then to end up with malnutrition. He's right, though, I almost never feel hungry unless I forget to eat a few meals."

"Do you often forget to eat meals?" Ryuuzaki asked, far too casually.

Light glared at him. "No," he said. "I rarely forget anything, thank you." He tried to loudly think a rude gesture, with pleasing success. It made Ryuuzaki smirk, and Light liked it.

Ryuuzaki had finished, now, and Watari still hadn't when the ward was interrupting to say, "Is there dessert?"

"I haven't finished my dinner, yet," Watari scolded him. "So if you want some and you really can't wait, you may serve yourself."

This did not appear to be a problem to Ryuuzaki, who got up and brought back two plates of cake. More cake? How much cake did he need to eat in a day?

"One slice," Watari corrected him.

"The other is for Light."

Watari didn't look like he especially believed him, so Ryuuzaki put the extra plate in front of Light to prove it.

"No thank you," Light replied automatically.

"Oh? He doesn't want it." Ryuuzaki nodded. "Well, it's already cut, so I suppose I'll have to just…"

"On second thought, I would love to try it."

Ryuuzaki's mouth opened and then closed tight. "Too obvious."

"Yes," Light agreed. He took his fork back in hand. It still had the mushroom sauce on it a bit, but it didn't really matter. He'd tried frankly repulsive combinations of food before and it hadn't made the slightest difference to him. He took a generous forkful of cake and crammed it into his mouth.

His senses were assaulted and he closed his eyes to prepare, but immediately they flew back open, because the sensation that followed wasn't plastic, or cotton, or yarn, but…

Well, he could only imagine it was the taste of cake.

It was light, and sweet, and. Clean.

Mouth full of cake, Light smiled. "It's _good_." He chewed and the food felt soft but not mushy, and he knew instinctively when to swallow it instead of just guessing. He took another bite just because he wanted to. This time, the bite only contained frosting, and it was so sweet it made his teeth hurt, but it also sent a rush of endorphins to his brain. The next bite was only cake, and it tasted different but still sweet, and Light learned that the texture of food could affect the taste and could affect it positively. Eagerly, he took another bite of cake that contained all the components, and it was even better than either component individually.

He'd devoured the cake, he discovered when it was all gone, and his stomach hurt a little in a way he wasn't really familiar with. Too many sweets, too fast? He'd never experienced that before.

He noticed a bit of frosting on his lip and licked his lips to remove it.

Ryuuzaki was staring again, but he wasn't staring at Light's face. Technically. Technically, he was staring- very intently- at Light's mouth.

"You… missed a spot," Ryuuzaki said. He raised a finger to indicate on his own mouth where Light had missed on his.

Light licked again, looking at Ryuuzaki questioningly.

"You got it."

Was he mad that Light had eaten his cake? Was he shocked that Light had enjoyed it? Or was he… no, surely not. Was The Great and Powerful L looking at _Light_ the way lots of other people did? Was he staring at him and not thinking but just wanting things from him?

To test this, Light smiled at him. It was simple, but most people who were 'gazing' at him and wanting him would quickly look away, when he made eye contact and smiled. Either they'd feel guilty so they'd want to hide their thoughts or they'd feel ashamed for thinking dirty thoughts when he was smiling at them so nicely.

So Light smiled at Ryuuzaki and caught his eye. But instead of blushing or looking away or looking startled, Ryuuzaki held his ground. He looked straight back at him and smiled too.

Something in Light's torso flopped over onto itself, just once, and quieted.

"You enjoyed the cake?" Watari asked after several moments of silence.

"Yes. It tastes…" he struggled for words to describe a positive flavor. "Clean."

Watari nodded. "I must agree, a good cake does taste clean. If I may pat myself on the back."

"Watari is the son of a baker," Ryuuzaki said, finally starting in on his own cake. "Apparently baking is an inherited skill. On a related note, I have deduced from my dismal lack of ability to bake that my father was _not_ a baker."

So Ryuuzaki had never met his father. Well, he _was_ someone's ward. Light wondered if his parents were dead or had abandoned him, or if the situation was not as simple as that. So far, with Ryuuzaki, the answer seemed to be either alarmingly simple or extremely complex, with no option in between.

"Well, it's the first thing I've ever eaten that I can honestly say I enjoyed," Light said. "So you should feel very accomplished. I may just be the pickiest eater on the planet."

"Thank you, Light." Watari said. "I'll take it as a compliment."

With dessert over, there was little left to do. Light, well-trained, offered to help with dishes, but Watari, ultra-polite, told him not to. Instead, Light found himself and Ryuuzaki at Ryuuzaki's front door.

"See you tomorrow, then," Light said.

"Tomorrow is Saturday," Ryuuzaki observed.

"Oh. Right."

"Unless you wanted to see me tomorrow, as well. It could theoretically be arranged."

"No need," Light said airily. "I had more than enough of you this evening. I think I deserve a good long break from your company before you put me through your field tests."

"My field tests are important," Ryuuzaki protested, and Light smiled. And then, on impulse, without thinking about it or thinking it through or planning it or not planning it, Light leaned in and kissed him.

It was a short kiss, too short for Ryuuzaki to react very much before Light was straightening up. When he looked at him, he found Ryuuzaki… he couldn't say surprised, but certainly not unsurprised.

"I was not expecting that," the boy admitted. "Not today, at least."

"Oh, really? Because I've been planning this for days. I'm surprised you didn't catch on."

Ryuuzaki sighed loudly, and it was such a perfect impression of Watari that Light kissed him again.

"Why did you do it that time?" Ryuuzaki asked.

"All part of the plan," Light said. "And now, the plan is to go home so you can go to your room and ruminate on that. Night."

"...Goodnight."


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: I do not own Death Note.**

* * *

Light made it home in record time, even though Ryuuzaki's house was not on the way home from school. It was well past dinner time, now, and Light's family was dispersed throughout the house. His sister was in her room by now, probably, doing whatever little sisters did in their free time. His mother and father were in the living room, watching television. Light's father must have been particularly stressed about work, because they were not watching the news and instead they had chosen to waste their brains on some ridiculous game show that smelled like burnt hair.

They looked up at Light when he came into the living room.

"Where were you, out so late?" his father asked, non-accusatory. It seemed Light was trusted, as long as he remembered to text. Or as long as he remembered to text after Ryuuzaki reminded him to text.

"At a friend's house," Light said, and it was kind of nice to say because it felt true. It was something he hadn't said in probably over a decade.

His parents definitely noticed. "You… were?" his mother asked, trying to hide how surprised and pleased she was, bless her.

"Yes. It was fun. I had dinner over there, his guardian made chicken."

This was the longest conversation he'd willingly had with his parents in years. It was a little surreal.

"You had dinner there? Then you should invite him over here sometime so we can return the favor," his father suggested.

Hm, maybe Light's parents secretly wanted to socialize Light, just like Watari wanted to socialize Ryuuzaki…

"Sure," Light agreed. "We could do that. Maybe this weekend."

"Any time you'd like," his mother said, and this time it was a little too enthusiastic. They were beaming at him, both of them.

Should he tell his father now that his new friend was L Himself, or should he bring him home one day and let his father stumble upon the realization himself?

He imagined Ryuuzaki's face when Soichiro reacted to him suddenly appearing in his house one day. He'd think L thought he was the murderer or that he was being forced into unexpected overtime.

Definitely wait and let it unfold on its own.

Smiling about this, Light said, "Sure, I'll text him later. We did talk about getting together again tomorrow." But that conversation hadn't really been resolved because he'd decided to kiss him.

"That would be nice," his father said.

They made small talk for a bit longer, but Light's mind had drifted and was now thoroughly elsewhere. Specifically, it was in Ryuuzaki's room, or his basement, and pretty often it was at his front door. He walked up the stairs, floating a little bit off the ground. He took a shower, mind far away. He went to his room, knocked his homework out in thirty minutes flat. He picked the book he'd thrown before off the floor and put it neatly back on its shelf, because unlike Ryuuzaki Light took care of his books. Even if books only mattered for the stories in them, even if physical books were only shells.

He smiled to himself and changed into pajamas, getting into bed. He closed his eyes.

It had been a good day. The best day Light could remember in recent history, actually. All he'd done was skip class and go to someone's house for some voluntary science, but it had been. Fun. Skipping class had been exciting and, for him, unprecedented. Going to someone's house had been pretty damn novel, too. He'd learned a lot today. He'd learned that cake could taste really quite good, a lot of specifics about how exactly his brain and his sense of smell interacted, that he was open to the idea of kissing other boys, and that some people's houses weren't too terribly rancid-smelling. And that some people weren't too terribly rancid-smelling.

Ryuuzaki's house smelled… a little musty. But not horrible, really. He imagined it was as not-worthless as something could be, given that it was something made by people. However, it was inhabited by two interesting, intelligent people, so that gave the house a little bit of a greater purpose. Something had to keep Ryuuzaki and Watari warm and dry at night. He smirked to himself. And if Ryuuzaki didn't have a house, where would he keep his nightmare of a bedroom?

Watari had smelled a bit. He'd smelled slightly of rubbish. The smell of rubbish just before it got to the point where you started to talk to the other people living in your house about how you _really_ needed to take the garbage out soon, but didn't. Ryuuzaki, on the other hand, smelled just a little bit sickly sweet.

Like… cake?

It certainly wasn't rot. There was nothing rotting about Ryuuzaki. He was using all his brains so they weren't rotting out of his head, and the smell clinging to him was just that: clinging to him. Not from him, exuding from his pores like all the other shitty people Light had met. Light was sure about that.

Also. _Fuck_ that piece of cake had been fucking _amazing._ Was Light going to get fat now?

Slowly, he drifted off, thinking about that beautiful slice of cake.

* * *

Light awoke in a cold sweat, soaked and shivering. His sheets, too, were damp where he'd slept on them, and he may have been able to wring saltwater out of his pillowcase. Obviously, he'd been dreaming. Obviously, he had not been dreaming of cake… unless this was how people usually dreamed about cake, which Light strongly doubted.

He rolled over, wanting to get away from the wet and the cold, finding a dry part of bed. He cracked his eyes open. His room was still very dark. His clock told him it was only three in the morning. Light didn't often have nightmares, but when he did they were usually abstract and horrific. Usually, they were horrific enough to remember. Not tonight, apparently.

He wiped his face and his forehead was still damp. He felt disgusting, and the sick smell of his sweat was nauseating. He in equal parts climbed, fell, and rolled out of bed and to his feet, staggering to the bathroom and getting into the shower. He didn't care if it woke a member of his family, he wanted to get clean.

He stood under the hot water, letting it pound down on his scalp. That was supposed to be bad for the hair. He'd read that somewhere. The hot water damaged it in some way when it was on for too long. Then again, so did all the crazy chemicals in shampoo. Really, everything damaged everything, and people kept making these products because they didn't care about anything except making money. And they used toxic chemicals to package their toxic products, then paid their workers nothing and inflated the price of their products, and then used psychology and people's insecurities to sell their toxic product packaged in toxic containers by underpaid workers.

Light shook his head once, hard. There was nothing he could do about that. He did not need to go down that road.

The warm water felt pretty good. Today, it was actually sort of penetrating. His bones still felt cold and he still felt dirty from his sweat, but at least his skin felt a little warmer.

Every time anyone took a shower, not only were they using this shampoo, but they were then putting those chemicals directly into the water when it went down their drain. Using precious water just because they wanted to take a half hour shower. Using power to heat the water. All so they could be warm for just a moment. People were so selfish. Humans just consumed, destroyed. They sucked everything around them into them and then threw away what they didn't want, and their piles of refuse were just left to…

 _No_.

He pushed the thoughts away again with a louder mental shove, and instead he squeezed his eyes shut and focused on the water. The water felt good. There didn't have to be anything more to it than that.

He turned off the water and got out, and almost instantly he was shivering. The shower had been pointless. People were black holes of need and want. They were so incredibly temporary and yet they _used_ and _used_.

That cake. That cake was the perfect example. It had tasted so, so good, but only for a moment. Then it was gone, and all the resources that went into making it… the work and resources of various animals and animal husbandry, the packaging, the shipping of the packaged goods, and then using all those things to make something with no nutritional value, that was gone in just a few moments. Now, he'd just consumed something unhealthy just for the sake of consuming. He hadn't _needed_ it. All that had gone into just a few moments of pleasure for him, and now that pleasure was already in the past. In 100 years he'd be dead and rotten and his stomach would be a memory, let alone the contents of it.

He snatched a towel off the rack and aggressively dried his hair with it, trying to get rid of the thoughts that way. He had to live, didn't he? He couldn't change the entirety of humanity, could he? They were destroying the Earth whether he helped or not, so shouldn't he just enjoy the ride like everyone else? It was just a ten minute shower. It was just one bottle of shampoo.

Said everyone. And then everyone together made the world a steaming pile of…

Light grit his teeth and then realized he had no clean pajamas with him, and he wasn't putting the sweat-soaked ones back on. He wrapped his towel around his waist and hurried to his bedroom. There, he put on fresh pajamas. He changed his bed sheets and got back into his dry bed, closing his eyes tightly. He found he was grinding his teeth and forced himself to stop.

He just had to get back to sleep. If he could get back to sleep, everything would be okay. He could wake up and maybe have some more cake and it would taste amazing again, and then maybe he and Ryuuzaki would run some field tests and Light would learn more about his rotten brain and they'd magically think of a cure to him _being_ like this…

That was going too far. There wasn't a 'cure' to reality. The world _was_ rotten, so it only made sense that he smelled and saw and tasted it for what it was. It was everyone else who was wrong. Light was the only one who wasn't deluded.

He would so rather be deluded like them.

In stages, Light fell asleep. Once he was there, he didn't wake up again for the duration of the night.

* * *

They had never officially agreed on whether or not Light was supposed to come over the next day. Somehow that conversation had ended in them kissing. So Light was just going to do what he thought Ryuuzaki would do in the same situation: show up.

He got himself dressed, groomed, and primped, and then he headed downstairs for breakfast. Watari would probably feed him cake when he arrived, but really Light should get actual food into his system. His mother was cooking and not almost done. He could either sit and wait or rush out, ignoring the thing he'd just thought about eating healthy food, and have cake for breakfast instead.

He hesitated for only a moment.

Definitely cake for breakfast.

He called out goodbye to his parents and rushed out the door, swinging around a corner and almost colliding with his sister. "Sorry!" he called out as he caught her, corrected her balance for her, and then immediately took off again, down the hall and out the door.

It was a pretty day, and Light found himself looking at the clouds as he walked. Clouds were far away from here. They were miles away from Earth and all of the pointless, useless, ugly things humanity did. They were kind of nice, actually, the way they just drifted peacefully through the sky, never hurting anyone or imposing or touching down to get contaminated by the filth of Earth. Clouds were literally above all of that.

There weren't a lot of clouds, that day, and that just made them nicer, contrasted against a brilliant blue sky. It was cold and sunny. Light had forgotten a jacket, as was so easy to do when the seasons started to change, so he just walked faster to stay warm. This had the added benefit of bringing him to Ryuuzaki's house more quickly.

He crossed directly to the front door and rang the doorbell. This time, it was the boy himself who answered.

"I was expecting you twenty minutes ago," Ryuuzaki said by way of a greeting.

"That's presumptuous," Light said, "considering we never officially agreed to meet today and most certainly did not decide on a time."

Ryuuzaki hummed noncommittally and stepped aside to let Light come in.

"So that is what Light wears on weekends," Ryuuzaki said. Light did not miss the way Ryuuzaki's eyes lingered.

Light looked him over as well. "And you, unsurprisingly, wear exactly what is all over your room." A white, long-sleeved t-shirt and jeans. Also, bare feet. He looked like someone who had picked their outfit out of a pile of clean, crumpled laundry. Which he had.

"It would be strange to wear clothes that aren't mine," the boy agreed with _just_ a hint of a mocking tone. "Although now that I have said that, I am concerned that you may need to borrow a jacket. We will spend much of the day outside and if you are too cold you won't be able to focus on experiments."

"For some reason, I'm surprised you own jackets."

Ryuuzaki turned to a closet a bit down the hallway, opening it up and beginning to dig through it. "Watari purchases one for me each Christmas. I never wear them but it seems he can't control himself." He shrugged, removing one of his apparently legion jackets to pass to Light. It was a simple blue jacket and Light put it on without a fuss. It was probably his imagination, but he felt it had the faint, sweet-sour smell that Light had begun to associate with Ryuuzaki. He zipped it up to show his cooperation. "Let's go do science."

"That's the spirit," Ryuuzaki chirped. "But first, have you eaten? I was informed yesterday that this is something you occasionally forget to do."

It was, and did, and he had. "I was just going to eat cake for breakfast once I got here," Light confessed.

Ryuuzaki's eyes lit up. "Dare we?" He cast a worried glanced up towards Watari's room. "I suppose, if he does not find out… and perhaps he won't stop me if you are here doing the same…"

"It was my idea," Light agreed. "And you're socially obligated to do what your guest wants to do."

"Perfect." Ryuuzaki dropped everything- metaphorically, as he wasn't holding anything- to rush to the kitchen. He wasted no time in going to the fridge and bringing out two generous slices of cake.

"Maybe he should stop leaving pre-sliced cake in the fridge, if he wants you to stop eating it."

"Don't you dare suggest it," Ryuuzaki said. "My cake cutting skills are dismal. It would not, however, stop me, and then we'd just have half-smashed, jaggedly cut cake in the fridge, and then where would we be?"

"Nowhere good," Light said somberly, taking one of the plates away from him. It was a different cake, brown. Probably chocolate? Would it still be good?

He hesitantly ate a piece of it. His shoulders drooped and he put down the fork. No good. It wasn't any good at all. It was just vaguely bitter foam in his mouth, filling him with chemicals and sugar and fake nutrients. There wasn't even a point in continuing to eat it, he'd rather just be hungry than eat _this_ , it was all the same to his body anyway…

"No good?"

Light hadn't noticed Ryuuzaki watching him, but he had been. He shook his head in response. Maybe the day before had been a fluke. Statistically his fucked-up senses would have to make a mistake eventually, right? Things never smelled or tasted the same to him from one day to the next, so maybe yesterday had just been an extension of that. Now he would never taste good cake ever again. It was so much worse because he knew what he'd lost.

"Maybe you don't like chocolate," Ryuuzaki suggested. "Let me get you a slice of the strawberry cake from yesterday."

The thought, at least, warmed Light a bit. Ryuuzaki stood, went to the fridge, and returned bearing the strawberry cake that Light had literally dreamed of.

Even more hesitantly than before, Light took a bite.

This time when his shoulders slumped, it was in relief. His eyes closed and he smiled.

"Good?" Ryuuzaki asked, a smile tugging at his lips as well.

"Mm-hmm," Light hummed through his mouthful.

"Not everyone likes chocolate," Ryuuzaki commented. "Though I find it hard to imagine, myself. It doesn't particularly surprise me that you wouldn't. You seem like the type."

Light was half-listening. The other half was entirely focused on the cake and how it felt in his mouth.

"What does it taste like to you?" Ryuuzaki asked.

"It's not just how it tastes," Light said. "It's also the texture. Most other things feel sort of... foam-like. Or too mushy, or just wrong. I guess it's what food is like if there's no taste. But cake- or, I guess, this cake—is soft, and the frosting is creamy, and the cake is spongy but in a good way, not like actually chewing on a sponge. And it's not at all bitter or tasteless. It's sweet and rich."

He forked another bite into his mouth, intentionally missing his face just a little bit in order to smear a bit of frosting onto his lip. It had gotten Ryuuzaki to stare at him last time, so most likely it would do so again…

As if on cue, Ryuuzaki passed him a napkin.

Light smirked. "Oh, is there frosting on my lip again?"

"There is," Ryuuzaki said nonchalantly.

"Because you're very much not looking at me."

He wasn't. He was looking decidedly over Light's right ear, in fact.

"I'm thinking on other subjects," Ryuuzaki said. "Cake isn't the most interesting thing to think about for extended periods of time."

Light raised an eyebrow.

"Hm, that wasn't the most convincing argument I could have made, was it."

"Given your overt love of cake? Not really." He didn't take the napkin, and he didn't lick his lips to remove the frosting.

Ryuuzaki glanced at him and then away.

"I think you're avoiding looking at my face because there is frosting on my lip and you'd like to lick it off."

"…I haven't lived here very long, Light, but I was given to understand that the Japanese were not _nearly_ as forward as you have be-"

"I'm not normal," Light said simply. "Now, do you want to kiss this frosting off my lip, or don't you?"

"I don't," Ryuuzaki said stubbornly. He finally made eye contact, and Light could see that he wouldn't get anywhere with that line of pressure.

"Good," he said instead. "Because I wouldn't have let you, anyway."

"Why not? You kissed me twice yesterday and there wasn't even any frosting involved."

"Because this frosting is _mine_." Light licked his lips.

Ryuuzaki made a small, irritated noise and finished his own cake in a few bites. Not a speck of frosting was missed and there was absolutely none on his face. It felt almost passive-aggressive. Intentional.

Light took his time finishing his cake, and every single bite was just as delicious as the first the previous day. When he had finished, he sighed a little, content. "Do you always have multiple flavors of cake in your fridge?"

"Yes, of course."

"Of course?"

"Doesn't your family?"

"No, Ryuuzaki."

"Oh." Ryuuzaki took a moment to contemplate the ceiling. "Well I find that very strange. Shall we get started?"

"Let's."

To be polite to Watari, wherever he currently was, Light took his plate and put it in the sink. Ryuuzaki, previously looking like he intended to do no such thing, copied him after a moment's hesitation.

"Now may we go?"

"We may," Light said. He put his borrowed blue jacket back on and made his way to the door. "Where to first?"

* * *

Ryuuzaki on a train was a surprisingly odd sight, maybe because most people holding onto the hanging handles did so with a relatively straight spine, whereas Ryuuzaki continued slumping, forcing himself to reach very, very high to grab on. It was a little comical and Light allowed himself to smile, but didn't laugh at him.

It wasn't a very crowded bus, but people were staring at the pair of them. Light who was utterly off his rocker but looked like the picture of a handsome, healthy, intelligent Japanese young adult contrasted with Ryuuzaki, who looked straight mad. If one of them was a serial killer, any normal person would assume it was Ryuuzaki. In fact, a few people had edged away from them when they'd entered and were still watching him a little warily and wondering why this shining example of Japanese youth was talking to this strange, pale, folded-over creature with such familiarity.

Ryuuzaki did not appear to notice any of this. More accurately, he absolutely _did_ appear to notice this, but he absolutely did _not_ appear to care. Not in the slightest. Clearly he was used to being stared at, just like Light. Even if the staring had a slightly different sentiment behind it.

It made Light want to keep talking to him, just so they would all see.

"Do you like being on trains?" Ryuuzaki asked him casually.

Light shook his head.

"Too many people?"

Light smiled. "Of course."

"And too manmade," Ryuuzaki added.

"Yes."

"Have you ever considered camping?"

"Nature is rotting, too," Light said. "Everything is dying, always. And nature isn't any kinder than humans. Nature murders, tricks, and lies just like we do. Humans are just nature condensed into extra-shitty packages."

Ryuuzaki considered this quietly for a moment. He took a deep breath. "All I smell is body odor and petrol," he admitted.

"That's because you're less crazy than me."

"No one has ever said _that_ before," Ryuuzaki said, amusement in his voice but his face mostly impassive.

"For the first time, you've actually met someone more insane than you, you freak."

"And you, Light, have actually met a bigger freak."

Light smiled.

They rode in silence.

"So where is the first site?"

"To be honest," Ryuuzaki said. "I didn't think you'd be willing to get onto the train. I expected you to take one inhalation and then demand to leave. Then I was going to take you to a park. However, you have yet to complain of the smell."

"There aren't _that_ many people," Light said. "I guess it doesn't seem as strong as I'd normally expect it to. But you're right, I do usually avoid the train. It's one reason why I walk to school."

"We'll have to take the train at a busier time, then," Ryuuzaki said. "Perhaps on the way back."

"If we must. For science." He smiled at him and Ryuuzaki smiled slightly back.

Again, they rode in silence for a while.

"For the record," Light said, "I don't think you're a freak."

"I am."

"I know you are." Light looked him over. "Don't get me wrong, I am very aware that you are definitely a freak. However, I don't think you are. Whatever that's worth."

"Interesting." He chewed on the thumb that he wasn't using to hold himself up on the train. "I feel vaguely offended. Are you offended if I say that I don't think you mad?"

Light thought about it. "Not really."

"A lifetime of blending in has made you well-adjusted in at least one regard, then."

They exited the train and walked for a while until they found themselves in another park.

"I've memorized the city," Ryuuzaki informed him.

"Of course you have."

"If Sherlock Holmes could memorize London, then I can memorize this city."

"I've never been to this park." Light looked around. It was a nice one, actually. A good number of trees and a good absence of people.

"Take a deep breath in," Ryuuzaki instructed, staring at him.

"I don't think it works like that." Nevertheless, he took a deep breath in. "Uh. Sour, I guess. I don't know, nothing is really standing out to me today."

"And why do you think that is?"

Light shrugged a little. "It's not equally overwhelming all the time. I guess we just happened upon a good day."

Ryuuzaki frowned.

"I'm sorry my relatively good mental health is inconvenient for your research," Light said sweetly.

Ryuuzaki sighed. "I accept your apology. But this has entirely thrown off my plans for today. First you do not object to the train, now you are mostly unbothered by the park. We were going to go to a really poverty-stricken area next, and then we were going to go to a really rich area, and I theorized that the wealthy area would smell extra bad after the poverty-stricken area."

"I don't think we'll be able to induce it in the environment like we could with strong smells," Light said finally. "I don't think you can just take me around the city and have me sniff different areas until we magically figure out what… offensive, horrible side of humanity smells the best or the worst. I think you're a confounding variable."

Ryuuzaki spotted a bench and sat down on it, pulling his legs up under him. Light sat down at his side. He looked out over the park. It was mostly just trees and grass, not a lot of interesting features or plants, but it was peaceful. There was not even any breeze to carry the crud of the city into the park.

"I suppose that makes sense," Ryuuzaki said. "I am distracting you from getting buried in your own brain like you did in class."

"Class is definitely not as interesting as you. Or as interesting as this day has been."

That made Ryuuzaki smile a little. "All we have done is eat cake, ride a train, and go to a park."

"Usually I just sit at home, do mindless homework, and stare at the wall, sinking deeper and deeper into my own madness," Light joked. "So this day out is a big difference."

He nodded. "I don't think you're mad," Ryuuzaki said after several moments.

Light looked at him sidelong. "You implied that on the train."

Ryuuzaki shook his head. "I think you are bored," he said. "I think you are crushingly, mind-numbingly bored, and I think that you've been so very, very bored for so very, very long that you don't know or don't remember what it's like to _not_ be bored. And I think—rather, I am convinced- that your brain is tearing itself apart for something to do like a starving man digests himself."

Light tried to imagine a world where he was completely okay. Where he woke up every single morning and functioned the same way. Where sometimes he was sad and sometimes he was happy, but most of the time he was pretty much neutral. The sidewalk wouldn't suck him into it and hold him fast like quicksand. His classmates wouldn't be rotting before his eyes, body parts falling off in gelatinous chunks. He would go to school, (not) learn, and go home. He would have friends, in this world where the world was okay, because people wouldn't make him feel like scratching off his skin.

Was boredom all it was? Was Light's deep, dark problem really something as simple as being so bored that his brain had to give itself something to do, like a person in a sensory deprivation tank would begin hallucinating? Could he have solved this problem himself all these years by sitting down and playing a game of Parcheesi? No, that seemed too simple. But maybe having someone to talk to—really talk to—would make it less like the entire world was just his own mind, over and over again, echoing into the blackness. Maybe he just needed a challenge.

"Okay," he said finally.

"Okay?"

"Yes, okay." Light nodded. "You may be right."

"Oh," Ryuuzaki said, pleased. "I'm glad you agree."

"So then distract me."

Ryuuzaki looked around, then at Light. "Here?" he asked, sounding the slightest bit scandalized.

Light gently bumped him with his shoulder. "That is not what I mean and you know it."

"I do," Ryuuzaki agreed. "But I'm afraid I don't know what you _do_ mean."

"If all I need is to be challenged sufficiently, then I can't think of anyone better suited to it than you. Challenge me. Entertain me. Let's do science, but let's do it and find out what makes things _not_ suck."

Ryuuzaki appeared to consider this. "Very well," he said. "Then I reserve your company next Saturday from 3:00pm until 8:00pm."

He pretended to think about his schedule and if he was free or not. He actually couldn't remember the last time he'd had proper plans. "Okay, I'll move some things."

"Lie. Good, we'll meet at your house this time."

Light smirked. Finally, he would get to surprise his father with the random appearance of the world's greatest detective.

Ryuuzaki looked at him curiously, but didn't press it.

They sat together quietly, watching the absence of people in the park around them. They must have been there at a weird time because there was almost no one invading. Light was so used to seeing so many people that the lack of them was almost unsettling.

But also really peaceful. Light smiled slightly to himself and looked up at the sky. The clouds he'd admired earlier were fewer, now. They'd floated away or dissipated or whatever it was clouds did. Did that count as dying? Did that mean clouds were rotting, too?

"You look troubled."

"Hm?"

Ryuuzaki repeated himself.

"Oh. Just thinking."

Ryuuzaki looked up as well, presumably to see whatever it was Light saw. "About clouds, or just at clouds?"

"About," Light admitted. "Usually I don't even notice them." He glanced at Ryuuzaki and smiled, then looked back up at the sky. "I think I like them."

"And you find them troubling?"

"I was just wondering where they go when the sky stops being cloudy."

"Well, their molecules disperse."

"I know that," Light said. "I mean, even they die, right?"

The other boy didn't say anything. Light struggled to rephrase.

"They don't exist, and then they do," he tried again. "And then they stop existing again, right? In their own way, they die. And anything that will die has to be alive, and anything that's alive is always dying. Every moment."

"Anything living is, in your words, rotting," Ryuuzaki speculated.

"Right. So, are even the clouds doomed? Rotten?"

Ryuuzaki leaned back, the better to see the clouds, and thought about it.

Light watched him for a bit, then looked back up at them.

When the atmosphere could no longer support the clouds, the clouds would disperse, cease to be clouds. Die. But then, if they dissipated and spread back out into the whole sky, mingling with the atmosphere, going back to where they came from peacefully and without so much as a final gasp… then at least they could die beautifully. Maybe that's what people did when they died. Their bodies stayed to rot and their insides, all the things about them that were so tucked away inside that they couldn't get dirty, shattered out and out and out into the entire universe and far away, and like the molecules of the clouds they mingled with everything, going back where they came from.

"I understand," the detective said, and Light looked back over at him. "I haven't decided if I agree or not, yet, but I understand."

Light's shoulders relaxed as if he were eating cake.

* * *

They spent the rest of the day together in the park, mostly just walking around it. They ended up walking every single path through the park, many of them more than once. Light took no notice of the time until it began to get dark, and he realized that they'd entirely missed lunch and now it was much closer to dinner. He didn't point it out to Ryuuzaki, though, because then he was sure the other boy would insist upon-

"It's getting dark," Ryuuzaki mused, interrupting Light's very-related train of thought.

"It is."

"We should probably return home," he continued. "Pity. I was enjoying this."

"I was too. Though I admit that my feet are starting to hurt from all this walking."

"Have to work off the cake," Ryuuzaki said. He turned them back toward the way they'd initially come into the park. Light walked beside him. "All the sugar you have consumed in the past two days is probably such a shock to your system that you'll gain multiple pounds from four slices of cake."

"Could that really happen?" Light asked, a little alarmed and regretting having never paid any attention to junk food his whole life.

"No."

"Good."

They got back on the train, and then there was a stopover where it made much more sense for Light to go one way and Ryuuzaki to go the other. Light's train pulled into the station first and Light hesitated, not instantly moving to get on as the others filed off. He looked at Ryuuzaki. He could go for a kiss, now. They might get some strange looks but probably no one would actually interfere with them. He could just pull Ryuuzaki in for a slow, hard kiss, then hop on the train and vanish, leaving him reeling.

He took a half-step closer.

Then he met Ryuuzaki's eyes, saw the way he was looking at him, turned around, and hurried onto the train.

The heat in that look made a slow, hard kiss merely redundant.

Light grinned all the way home. The clouds looked absolutely beautiful drenched in the colors of the sunset.

* * *

It was amazing, really, how very briefly the inflation of his mood lingered.

Sunday was okay. Really, Light got one good day extra day out of all of it. On Sunday, Light milled about the house, helped his sister with homework, helped his mother with dishes, read. He clung to the thought that clouds died beautifully. They did die, they did rot, but they dispersed and went far away, and reunited with everything beyond themselves, everything clean. And as he did simple tasks such as dishes, too simple to stimulate but repetitive enough to put him in a slight trance, he _was_ able to keep it in his mind. And then he did the laundry, and cleaned his room from top to bottom, and vacuumed the rest of the house. Maybe if he could get things clean, really clean, then the thoughts that he could feel looming in his mind would not come back.

That worked, for Sunday.

Monday he woke up and the clouds weren't rotten—they'd never existed. He was hollowed out, his insides scraped clean, and he limply thought that maybe it was still a step up from the choking. The thought felt slow, like it was being dragged through molasses.

Ryuuzaki wasn't at school and Light wasn't surprised. He looked at his seat then looked away out the window. He couldn't block out the conversations of his classmates, and every word they said seemed laced with gangrene. The words seeped into his ears and with them, the smell. He didn't react. He didn't move a muscle. When the teacher came in, he shifted only enough to look at her so she wouldn't call on him, thinking he wasn't listening. He wasn't, but he could avoid the confrontation just by turning his head.

It was like the shower, he thought. It was exactly like the shower. He felt better when Ryuuzaki was around and he could exercise his brain for once. But then once it was dipped back into ordinary humanity, it instantly began to rot again. So what was the point? Like the hot shower that ceased to exist the moment he stepped out into the cold, Light against felt… like this. After a full _day_ of a fairly decent mental workout with an actually intelligent person. So what had been the point?

The hot shower was a waste of water and electricity and chemicals. Ryuuzaki was a waste, too, wasn't he? Just like all humans were? Consuming, sucking the world dry. Using. The way he ate _cake_ , the way he _consumed_ and used and wasted, all for a few moments of…

He remembered the way Ryuuzaki smiled as his mouth closed around a forkful of cake, the way his eyes lit up with each and every bite.

A few moments of pleasure. But maybe on Ryuuzaki that wasn't a waste.

Ryuuzaki wasn't a waste of the resources it took to keep him alive. He used his brain to solve crime and he thought and breathed and moved and looked at clouds and took Light seriously, and he needed those resources in order to keep doing those things.

But Light? What was Light doing? Nothing, ever. Doing dishes and laundry and helping his idiot sister do her idiot homework. What was the point of _that_? _Light_ was the one who was a waste.

It hit him like a truck, something he'd never thought of before. He was always on about the idiots around him and how they were rotting and how he wasn't normal so _he_ wasn't rotting as much, but wasn't it the opposite? There was more of him and he was doing less with it, so there was more of him to rot and there was more being wasted. He had the potential to do anything, and what he did was ignore his teachers and crawl around his house and eat cake and be impressed when it didn't taste like grass clippings.

He was already rotten through. No wonder the good feelings didn't stick.

Tuesday, he went to school. Ryuuzaki wasn't there. Tuesday, he tried to pay attention. Tuesday, he tried to make something of himself, not be such a waste of his own brain. Tuesday, he tried, he really did, but the teacher was too deep underwater and he could only make out murmurs.

Wednesday, he went to school. He didn't try to pay attention, he tried to hide. To not breathe in the rot, not let any more of it into his rotten system. He tried to be as small as he could, but he couldn't change his physical size so he just shriveled up inside, instead. It didn't make a difference- he couldn't get rid of the excess that only existed, apparently, to rot away.

Thursday, he made it to school, even though the sidewalk dragged him down, down.

Friday, he could only speculate. He did not remember Friday.

It was Saturday, late morning, and Light was in his room, doing something. His mind was a million miles away, but he'd managed to look in the mirror and arrange the rotten keratin on his head into a visually pleasing configuration and rub vomit-flavored toothpaste on his teeth with a toxic, plastic, landfill-bound toothbrush until there were no more food particles _literally_ rotting between the exposed bits of his skull. At that thought, he brushed a little too hard for a little too long, only stopping when the bristles of his toothbrush were starting to turn pink with blood. He looked in the mirror again, rinsing his mouth out, feeling a little better with very clean teeth.

He looked at the clock. It was already two, he'd started getting ready hours ago. He blinked and it was like sandpaper sliding slowly over his eyeballs. He should go downstairs. He was expecting Ryuuzaki in an hour, even though the boy hadn't showed up to school once the previous week. Well, he might have done on Friday, Light realized slowly, but Light wouldn't know.

He didn't blame him. Why come to that school if you didn't legally have to? Maybe he would still show up to their appointment.

It was two thirty, and now was downstairs. He shook his head. He could go get something to eat, but if it had taken him four hours to brush his hair and teeth he didn't think he should risk it. He sat down on the bottom step, which was within sight of the front door, and waited.

Now that he was doing nothing, not even personal grooming, time stretched out. What felt like years later, his mother passed by. She stopped, surprised.

"Oh, Light. I thought you'd gone out."

She was underwater. He blinked at her. She smelled like rotting fish. Huh, that sort of fit the underwater theme.

She took a step closer and the smell of fish got stronger and he unconsciously leaned back.

"Are you okay? There's some blood on your lip."

She reached out and brushed it away with her thumb. It was a tender gesture, Light supposed, whatever she was doing, so he caused himself to smile at her.

Her eyes lingered on him. Ryuuzaki's eyes lingered on him too, sometimes, but in a very different way. Thankfully. Why was his mom staring, then? Was it just the normal, adoring staring of mothers, or was Light doing something wrong?

He watched her back, waiting for some sort of cue as to what he should do next.

"Are you waiting for someone?" she asked.

She was wondering why he was sitting silently on the bottom step, doing nothing. He had to distract her, and fast. What was the most normal thing he could be doing in the afternoon on a Saturday as a seventeen-year-old male? "I have a date," he said, because he was pretty sure that he did.

"Oh!" His mother perked up immediately. "I didn't know you had a girlfriend." She beamed. Good, he'd made her happy. She was such a nice lady. Was she less of a waste of everything than other people? Probably not, because her only good quality was being a nice lady, which made other people feel good, which was pointless because it was so transient.

"I don't," he said. If he had a girlfriend he'd have to answer too many more questions. "It's just a date."

She still looked pleased. "When are you expecting-"

The doorbell rang and Light's sluggish brain realized too late what he'd set into motion with just a few sentences. His mother was closer to the door and Light was buried up to his waist in wet cement so she made it to the door first, opened it, and her welcoming smile turned into one of polite confusion. He knew from the tilt of her head that Ryuuzaki had chosen that exact moment to show up and be decidedly male.

"Hello, Mrs. Yagami."

Yes, of course it was him with his deep, male voice. Light hurried to his feet and to the door. When Ryuuzaki saw him, he smiled.

"Hello, Light," he said, his tone entirely different. He was dressed in his non-school-uniform-uniform of white shirt and jeans, and his hands were shoved deeply into his pockets. The slump of his back looked almost painful. Did he have to sound so happy to see him, right this moment?

But _fuck_ was he happy to see Ryuuzaki, too.

Light's mother looked at Light and instantly her attitude changed. "Would you like to come in?" she asked warmly. "It's getting colder every day, I'm sure you could do with some tea."

Light realized that Ryuuzaki would accept only as he actually started doing so. Light's mother stepped aside and then, suddenly, L Himself was in Light's entryway.

They just looked at each other as Light's mother snapped into hostess mode, as tea got put on, as, to Ryuuzaki's delight, little desserts for which he had no name but knew went with tea in formal situations started hitting the table. He hadn't known his mother had these sorts of things on hand. Maybe he would if he ever had guests.

She was happy, in the next room over, and Light and Ryuuzaki were still looking at each other.

"What?" he said finally.

"Why are we still here?"

"I'm English," Ryuuzaki said. "I am not going to turn down tea, especially not at three in the afternoon."

"My mother thinks we're on a date."

"It's not entirely untrue."

"You just opened up the closet, reached in, and dragged me out of it by the throat."

Ryuuzaki smirked. "I wasn't aware Light was still playing _that game_ …"

"I wasn't playing a game," Light snapped quietly. "I didn't _know_ until I met-"

A figure appeared behind Ryuuzaki and Light looked up to find his father standing, stopped dead in the hallway. Ryuuzaki took one look at Light's expression and his eyes lit up, then went back to a calm, collected, cool. He turned around.

"Chief Yagami?" he asked, for all the world sounding legitimately surprised.

Light's father was dumbfounded. He looked at Light, at Ryuuzaki.

" _Oh_ ," Ryuuzaki said finally. "Yes… that makes sense. Yagami," he gestured his head at Light's father, "and Yagami." He gestured his head at Light. "I didn't put it together, before. Hm, it's unlike me to miss something like that, isn't it?"

"You know each other?" Soichiro asked, still not recovered from the shock of seeing The L in his home.

"We're classmates," Light said.

"You were at the station all week," Soichiro countered.

"I attend Light's school on an as-needed basis," Ryuuzaki said. "Watari insists. For socialization."

"Oh." If Light were Ryuuzaki he would probably be offended by how instantly and thoroughly the statement 'for socialization' had made the entire situation make sense to Soichiro. Luckily, it seemed Ryuuzaki was not socialized enough to know he should probably be offended.

"Relax, I am not here to drag you to the station on a Saturday," Ryuuzaki said, and he smiled a normal-person smile. "And it is actually true that I didn't realize at first that Light was your son, until we exchanged names."

Soichiro looked between them and licked his lips quickly. "So does he know-"

"Everything."

Soichiro relaxed the rest of the way. "So if I accidentally call you-"

"You may call me whatever you like. I go by 'Ryuuzaki' at school but Light knows my title."

It made sense that Ryuuzaki was not his name, given he was not Japanese. "What's your actual name?" Light asked.

"Confidential and known only to Watari and myself."

"Is this the new friend you mentioned, Light?"

"Yes."

Soichiro nodded. "I wouldn't have thought to introduce you, but it makes sense that the two most intelligent people I've ever met should become friends."

"That is very kind of you," Ryuuzaki said. Light noticed that he did not disagree.

Did that mean that Light was one of the two most intelligent people L had ever met, and the other was L himself? Was Light the most intelligent non-L person that L had ever met?

That wasn't a surprise—he _was_ , he had no doubt of it—but it was a little surprising that Ryuuzaki was aware of it.

"Tea's on," Light's mother called from the next room.

The three of them obediently came to the kitchen.

"Oh! Dear, come have tea with Light and his date."

Soichiro blinked. Light sighed. Ryuuzaki climbed onto his chair and took a handful of sugar cubes.

"Date?"

"Are you really putting all those in your-"

"I am sorry to ask, but do you have any more sugar cubes?"

Silence.

Light looked around. Soichiro and Sachiko were staring at each other, Soichiro bewildered and Sachiko severe, having a married-person conversation with only their eyes. Ryuuzaki was dropping sugar cubes one by one into his tea, not showing any sign of stopping. Light went to the pantry and got him the rest of the box.

"Thank you, Light," he said pleasantly. "Mrs. Yagami, you may stop glaring at your husband, now. He and I know each other from work- I am in fact L, I am sure he has mentioned my insufferability to you on multiple occasions- so it's naturally a little shocking to him that I am in your home and even more shocking to learn that I am taking his son on a date this evening. However, I think this has very little to do with my being surprisingly anatomically similar to Light."

As Ryuuzaki reached for another sugar cube, Light yanked the entire box away and put it directly into the trash. Ryuuzaki watched it go with sad eyes.

Light's mother and father were both staring, still. Light sat down, reaching for his tea. He had never needed tea so badly in his life. He took a deep sip and the warmth, although it burned his throat going down, settled in his stomach just right. He smiled down at his tea.

"Good?" Ryuuzaki asked pleasantly. "I didn't know you liked tea."

"Me either." Light looked up at Ryuuzaki and smiled at him, too.

There was a long, loud beat of silence that Light only sort of noticed, and then his parents became a well-oiled machine. In one smooth motion, Soichiro crossed the room as Sachiko turned around and poured tea with the sort of speed and mastery only attained through years of experience, and just as he got to his seat he held out a hand and the cup went into it, and he sat, and instantly Light's mom sat next to him and picked up her own tea. It took seconds.

It was a little bit beautiful, and Light instantly understood that they were on a mission.

"Where are you guys going today?" Soichiro asked. "It's a beautiful day."

"I heard it's not supposed to rain tonight," Light's mother added.

"I imagine that when L takes someone on a date, it's an impressive one."

"Dinner and movie," Ryuuzaki said, sipping his tea.

"That sounds wonderful," Sachiko enthused, smiling. "A classic, isn't that nice?"

"A time-honored tradition," Soichiro agreed.

That was pretty high praise for dinner and a movie, which, incidentally, Light hoped was not what they were doing with their evening. But if they didn't sound excited about dinner and a movie, they would sound like they weren't excited that Light had a date, and then it would sound like it was because Ryuuzaki was a boy, and Light knew they were surprised but he also knew they weren't opposed.

Light stood. "Now, actually, I think the movie is starting pretty soon so we should get going."

"Yes." Ryuuzaki stood. "Thank you for the tea," he said so politely that Light saw his father do a slight double-take. Light wondered what Ryuuzaki was like at the station.

Finally, _finally_ they were getting away from his house. Light took a deep, vinegar-scented breath of fresh air as they crossed the threshold.

"So, where are we really going?" Light asked. "I assume we aren't really going to dinner and a movie."

"We are absolutely going to dinner and a movie," Ryuuzaki said. "I would never lie to your parents, Light. What kind of person would that make me?"

Light looked at him, trying to find a lie on his face, but it wasn't there. They were really going to dinner and movie?

Surely they would be an L-like twist to it though, right?


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer: I do not own Death Note.**

* * *

The twist, Light discovered, was that there was absolutely no twist. They arrived at the cinema and Ryuuzaki bought them two tickets to some film. Light was too appalled that this was happening to even take note of the film, but as they'd walked in he taken note that there was nothing good at all, certainly nothing to warrant bringing him here. Did Ryuuzaki think that what Light was missing all along was _movies_?

"I didn't know you like films," Light said, trying to be grateful, as Ryuuzaki had bought both tickets to what was _technically_ not a date and was technically science. Ryuuzaki shrugged. Light followed him towards the ticket-taker, puzzled as they completely bypassed the concessions stand.

"Don't you want to buy enough candy for a family of four?" Light asked.

"Usually, yes," Ryuuzaki said. "Not that I frequent the cinema. However, there will not be time for that today."

Puzzled, Light followed Ryuuzaki through the halls, letting him pick the seats since this was all part of his master plan, apparently. There was just about no one else in the theater. Ryuuzaki began ascending the stairs so Light continued to follow.

He led them all the way to the very back row. From here, Light could see that there were only three other people in the theater and the previews were starting. The movie must have already been in theaters for a while, then.

It did not take Light long to notice that all the names in the opening credits were French. It took him almost no time at all to notice that so was the movie.

"Do you speak French?" Light asked, quiet enough not to disturb the others in the theater, though as they were so far away he probably needn't have bothered.

Ryuuzaki hummed an affirmative.

"You realize, of course, that I don't?"

The smirk on Ryuuzaki's face was more than enough evidence that he had in fact made this realization. "I don't know why you would. French isn't a language that most people in Japan know. But don't feel too bad, Light, I am sure your Chinese is significantly better than mine."

Light's Chinese was excellent, but somehow he still doubted that. "We are supposed to be doing science on what happens when I'm _not_ bored," he pointed out.

"You won't be bored. And we're testing more than one thing at once, actually. One of them is just for my curiosity and is completely off subject."

"Which is?"

"I'll tell you at dinner."

Light rolled his eyes but got comfortable in his seat, taking off his coat (which he had remembered to wear!), brushing crumbs off the armrests. He faced the screen. There was a woman and two men, engaged in a very-fast conversation in French. They all seemed pretty upset about it, whatever 'it' was.

Light found his mind wandering. Maybe Ryuuzaki was actually trying to make him bored. Taking someone to an obscure French film with no subtitles when they didn't speak French was so obviously a boring 'date' that Light could only conclude that it had been intentional. So what was he expecting, then? What could a person get out of a boring date?

 _Oh_ , of course. The same reason Ryuuzaki hadn't gotten any snacks.

He expected his mouth to be busy.

Well, that was presumptuous.

Light looked over at him and Ryuuzaki looked back, his face a picture of innocence. A mask of innocence, anyway, because there really was nothing innocent about that boy.

"I can't believe you brought me to a film to make out," Light said.

"Can't you?" Ryuuzaki countered, eyes only on Light, now, the movie already dismissed. "Have you ever been to a dinner and movie date, Light?"

"No."

"Have you ever seen a French film in theaters?"

"No."

"Have you ever engaged in extended kissing in a public location?"

"No."

"So why is it surprising?" His eyes were lit up with amusement. "Surely you can appreciate the genius behind taking Light Yagami not only on a date, but on the most boring, ordinary date anyone could imagine. It is the only way I could possibly surprise you, and I have done."

Light stared at him. He wasn't wrong- it had surprised him. It had surprised him massively, in fact. When Ryuuzaki had told his parents they were going to a movie, Light had never for a moment thought it might be true. He hadn't put a lot of thought into where they would be going, but if Ryuuzaki had announced some brilliant, creative… date, yes, it was a date, clearly it was even if it was a science-date… then Light would have been impressed but not surprised.

"You're right," Light sighed.

Ryuuzaki's smirk increased.

"But you know what I have to do now, though," Light said.

Ryuuzaki cocked his head.

"You know I have to do something unexpected, too. I can't just let this lie."

"And what do you intend to do?"

"Well, I realize I have two options."

"Mhm."

"The most obvious thing to do is to fall for your ploy and make out with you."

Ryuuzaki nodded.

"The least obvious thing to do is to refuse to give you so much as a peck, for manipulating me."

Ryuuzaki frowned a little, but nodded. "Those are the two options."

"There is a third," Light mused.

"Is there?"

"I could simply walk out."

Ryuuzaki's frown deepened. "But that is not the game."

"The fun of the game," Light said, voice lowering, leaning closer to Ryuuzaki but just a little, "is to create new rules that subvert the old ones. So if this game, as you set it up, is to surprise each other, then what I _have_ to do is leave the theater."

Ryuuzaki licked his lips.

"However," Light went on, "now that I've said that is what I have to do, it is no longer the most surprising course of action. Now, I am back to kissing you or refusing to. Obviously, you want me to kiss you. The obvious outcome was supposed to be kissing you, but I think you expected me to see the most obvious outcome and reject it. Perhaps you expected me to spend the duration of the film running my fingers over your hand to make you wish I was kissing you."

Light could tell from Ryuuzaki's expression that that was exactly what he had expected. The amusement in Ryuuzaki's eyes was turning into something else.

"The last think you expected was for me to actually kiss you," Light concluded. "How could anyone expect me to be so cooperative?"

"You rarely are," Ryuuzaki agreed, and Light didn't miss that his voice was lower than he'd ever heard it before.

"I rarely am," Light said very, very slowly. He glanced at the armrest that was dividing their seats and Ryuuzaki hurriedly folded it backwards, as if Light had told him to do it out loud. "But you are, apparently," Light observed.

Ryuuzaki didn't respond.

"So now I just have to decide. Do I cooperate, or do I act in character? Or do I act in character by unexpectedly cooperating, or do I act out of character by not doing something that I very, very badly want to do?"

Ryuuzaki didn't say anything, accurately realizing that anything he said was going to promptly be twisted back at him and add several more minutes to this conversation which he desperately wanted to end.

"I want to kiss you," Light said. "But I just don't know if I can possibly allow myself to lose like th-"

Ryuuzaki surged forward and kissed him hard, and Light couldn't help but laugh, one loud, triumphant burst of sound that actually caused someone in front of them to turn around and look at them before quickly turning back to the screen to avoid the sight. "Option four," Light managed against Ryuuzaki's mouth. His hands went to his ribs, making fists in the fabric there. " _You_ decide to kiss _me_."

Ryuuzaki pressed their foreheads together, hard enough to hurt. " _Decide_ ," Ryuuzaki echoed, voice barely more than a growl. "I didn't _decide_ any-" He didn't finish his own sentence before he was kissing him again, practically climbing onto him but prevented from properly doing so by their venue, which he himself had chosen, and when Ryuuzaki made an irritated sound in his throat about this Light couldn't help but laugh again.

He was rewarded by a fist in his hair, and that, finally, derailed his train of thought. His grip tightened on Ryuuzaki and he opened up. He'd tortured him enough, surely. Clearly he had won. Let Ryuuzaki have his consolation prize, nurse his ego, and simultaneously Light would get… frankly, a fucking amazing kiss out of it. And if Ryuuzaki also just wanted to shut Light up, that was fine, too—he was forcing Light to quit while he was ahead. The joke was even further on him.

He relaxed, letting Ryuuzaki in, and the hard kiss didn't soften but it did… change. Light wasn't sure how to understand the difference, but there was one. It was slower, for one thing, and Light wrapped his arms up and over Ryuuzaki's shoulders, pulling him closer. Ryuuzaki was next to him and over him, he had an arm on the opposite armrest and the other on the seat back. It was a strange contortion they'd gotten themselves into. The kiss was not gentler, but it was… well, in addition to slower, as he'd noted, it was deeper, headier.

Ah, Light realized. Dominance. When Light had relaxed into him he'd won, and there was no need to keep biting when he'd rather explore. He'd won the kiss and they were back on even ground.

Light smirked. Internally only, because his lips were being otherwise employed. Ryuuzaki thought he'd evened the score because Light had decided to enjoy the kiss? That was all it took to make him feel victorious? Good to know.

Apparently Ryuuzaki could read minds, or taste the smirk Light was thinking at least, because Light received a bite for that thought. Not a problem: Light invalidated the punitive bite by breathing the smallest, quietest of moans into Ryuuzaki's mouth.

Light felt Ryuuzaki shiver and then, all at once, Ryuuzaki stopped entirely. He drew back, pulled off of Light, broke all physical contact, crunched himself back into his seat, put his thumb by his lips, and started gnawing on a hangnail.

Light stayed where he was for a moment, taking it all in. His head was spinning and he wasn't exactly able to breathe, and his mouth tasted faintly of cake. Finally he straightened himself in his seat. He ran a hand through his hair to encourage it to return to normal, tugged on his shirt. Then, entirely to stroke Ryuuzaki's ego, he very-obviously adjusted his pants.

Ryuuzaki didn't look at him but he smiled slightly around his apparently-impenetrable (and invisible) hangnail. Light smiled and looked up at the screen only to discover the film was over and he hadn't even noticed.

An employee was coming in to sweep.

"How long has it been over?" Light asked.

"I haven't a clue," Ryuuzaki said, voice far too even. "I didn't even bother to look up how long the film was. We should probably vacate and allow them to do what they must with the theater."

"Sure." Light got up, reequipping his coat in preparation. He'd spent more time being a teenage boy in public than Ryuuzaki had, so when Ryuuzaki got up too he didn't do nearly as well at acting natural as Light did.

They left the theater.

"Now, what's the least-creative place you could be planning to take me to dinner?" Light looked and there was a small noodle restaurant next door. "There?"

"There," Ryuuzaki confirmed.

Light rarely went out to eat- why would he?- so he followed Ryuuzaki's lead and simply ordered the same things he did. As they ate, Ryuuzaki loosened up by degrees.

"I have two questions," he asked when his shoulders had returned to their usual level.

"Hm?"

"First, how is your udon?"

Light looked at it and shrugged. "Salty, a little bland, a little like chewing on string."

"Good news; udon is salty and a little bland."

"Is it like chewing on string?"

Ryuuzaki took another bite to compare Light's metaphor with the experience. "It's a little chewy, I suppose, but it's pleasant and I wouldn't call it string. Admittedly, however, I cannot recall ever chewing on string."

Light smiled. "It's fine," he said honestly. "Best udon I've had, I think. If it's supposed to be salty then maybe it's not far off."

"I am glad you are finding it tolerable," Ryuuzaki replied. "And now for my second question."

Light sensed that this was going to be longer so he quickly finished chewing on his vaguely-pleasant, salty strings.

"How much do you remember of the film?"

"Nothing," Light said immediately. "Well, I remember there were two women and a man, and they were angry. That was the first few minutes, anyway. Then we started kissing, so…"

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, I am sure we started kissing."

Ryuuzaki rolled his eyes. "No, Light. I am asking if you are sure you don't remember the movie."

Light thought about it. "Well I didn't see the screen."

"But you heard every word, even if you weren't attending."

"I don't know French."

"But you heard it."

"I suppose." He thought about it.

Ryuuzaki said something in French in a much higher voice than his own. Light realized it was a line from the movie, one of the women talking. Slowly, he answered with what had been the next line.

Ryuuzaki's eyes lit up and he responded, still in French, with the next line.

Light hesitated for only a moment, and then said the next, and then he said the next, and from there he realized that he could—honestly and truly—remember the entire movie. At least the script. It was just there in his brain, ready for him. He may have lost a few of the longer words, but as he ran his mind over the script it felt correct and complete.

"It's exactly like how you learn in class," Ryuuzaki said, digging back into his udon. "You don't pay attention in the slightest and it still gets into your brain. I'm willing to bet you worked out some French, too."

"Maybe," Light agreed. "Words that repeated a lot, anyway. I think I know the character's names, for example. And I'm pretty sure I worked out 'bastard' and 'unfaithful' and… did they spend an awful lot of time talking about coffee? French and English aren't terribly dissimilar."

"I knew it," Ryuuzaki said, and from his tone Light knew he meant it. "You're exactly like me."

"High compliment," Light said, taking a drink of his water. "But I thought you'd already worked that out."

"Not the same as having proof," Ryuuzaki countered. "And there are ways to be brilliant that aren't exactly like the way our brains work. I know plenty of geniuses."

"Ah, then you did lie to my parents after all."

"I did no such thing. But incidentally I have absolutely no objection to lying to them in the future."

"You implied to them I was one of the two smartest people you'd ever met, with yourself being the other."

"Yes."

"But you've met plenty of geniuses, apparently."

Ryuuzaki's smile was so arrogant that Light wanted to strangle him, smother him, and propose to him, and he wasn't sure in which order. "There is genius, Light, and then there is _us_."

Light stared at him for a long moment. "Well," he said finally. "About fucking time someone realized it."

Ryuuzaki laughed aloud. It was an odd sound but not unpleasant. "Very good, Light. I abhor genuine modesty."

"I'm incapable of it," Light said honestly. "Even when I loathe myself I still know I'm brilliant."

"Just another way you'd make a great serial killer."

Light smiled at him and went back to his udon.

* * *

Ryuuzaki returned Light home at precisely eight o'clock, exactly as he'd said he would. Light had a feeling it was solely to show off how accurate he could be, because they did actually make it to Light's door at 8:00 on Light's watch.

"Well, then?" Ryuuzaki asked. "How not-boring was that?"

"I'm not sure how to quantify not-boring," Light said. "But I certainly wasn't thinking about anything except what was… well. In front of me. And you only smell a little like socks, and you taste a bit like cake."

Ryuuzaki considered this. "Very well," he decided. "Same time next weekend, then?"

"Sure. Will you be at school this week?"

Ryuuzaki shook his head. "I am in the middle of a case. Serial killer. Everyone actually thinks I am currently in my room working on it, in fact."

He didn't want to sound as disappointed as he felt. "Okay," he said casually.

"Lie."

Light rolled his eyes hugely. "Well I'm sorry if you're the only interesting thing happening at the school I am forced to attend because I'm not world-renowned."

"Not yet," Ryuuzaki said simply.

Light didn't have a response for that.

"Goodnight, Light." Ryuuzaki made a face.

"What?"

"Nothing, I just heard that in English in my head for the first time. Unfortunately that phrase rhymes and also indicates an object that one plugs into a wall to help children sleep."

"Fantastic."

Ryuuzaki smiled a little. "Well, then. Instead I'll say 'sleep well.' See you next week."

"See you next week."

Light watched him walk away. When he was mostly out of sight, he snuck into his house. He was going to go straight to his room, but then he realized that his parents would think he'd stayed out all night, and then who knew what they'd imagine. He really didn't need that.

So he announced that he was home and waited for the inevitable parental invasion.

It came, as expected, and he answered questions as concisely as he could. Yes, he'd had fun (he had _definitely_ had fun). Yes, the movie was excellent. French, with(out) subtitles. Yes, they had plans for next weekend as well. No, he didn't know what. No, Ryuuzaki hadn't tried anything (he hadn't tried, he'd succeeded resoundingly). Yes, dinner was good, too.

He answered every question they had and eventually they let him retreat to his room. He plugged his phone in and dropped down onto his back on his bed. He closed his eyes. He realized he was smiling. Even his parents' questions hadn't been able to dampen his mood. His lips ached and he wondered if they were visibly swollen. He wondered if his parents had noticed. He felt a little like he'd been punched in the mouth, but in the best way possible.

They had another date—but oh, of course he meant _more science_ — next week.

His bed was comfortable but he got up, took a shower, brushed his teeth. He hurried to get from the cold post-shower back into his bed, burying himself in blankets. It was early, he knew, but he'd gone out more today than he'd been out in years other than school. He closed his eyes and thought about the script in French that now lived in his head. He ran over one scene a few times in his mind, trying to piece together what the words meant. It would have been easier if he'd seen the actual film and not just heard it.

Light's eyes shot open and he practically leapt from his bed and to his computer. He knew what he could do with his day on Sunday. But even better, he could start now. He could start now and stay up all night, work on it Sunday, sleep that night so he could function in school. Then every day after school he could work on it more, and then on Saturday…

Well, it would be more than a little impressive if he learned French in a week.

That night was preliminary: he did research, learning what were the best websites, apps, and videos by which to learn French. He found a tutor he could Skype with. When he had what he needed, he changed his mind and went to bed, the better to get up early the next day.

He woke up early Sunday morning and got to work. He'd told the tutor that he was going to France in exactly a week and he wanted to cram, and she'd gotten into the spirit, agreeing to meet with him at the beginning and end of Sunday as well as every day of the week following, all for a small (not small) fee, which Light happily paid. He started that first day with her, an excellent three-hour session that culminated in a lot of homework that she had put together for him the night before. He did the homework and found more to do after that, and at the next session that evening, he still hadn't left his room except to use the bathroom.

He crashed that night and dreamed in French.

He went to school Monday and did not look for Ryuuzaki. He knew he wouldn't be there and he had French to learn. While ignoring the teacher, he continued to plow through French vocabulary lists, trying to look like he was paying attention while really he was memorizing word after word. It wasn't hard. He read the word and the definition and the part of speech it belonged to and he could feel it sink into his brain like his shoes sank into cement and settle there. That afternoon when he met the tutor, they drilled pronunciation.

He did the same thing on Tuesday, and on Wednesday.

It was. Fun.

He was starting to do all the things he'd done when he'd learned English in school years ago, most of which he was fairly sure were typical for people intensely studying a language. He was thinking in French any time he knew the French words to express his thoughts. He was thinking about the grammar, drawing connections. He had a few sentences stuck in his head that he couldn't shake no matter how hard he tried. He only had a few more days to learn as much as he could, and the deadline made it a contest, made it a game.

So he continued cramming on Thursday.

Friday after school, Light got home and his tutor told him he would be able to carry a conversation with anyone he ran into on the sidewalk, as long as it didn't get too technical, and that his accent wasn't awful and at times was dead on. He thanked her, paid up, and realized that she wasn't completely awful so when she asked if he'd like to Skype again the next Sunday after he'd returned from his trip, just to catch up, he felt compelled to admit that he wasn't going to France. It had been awkwardly silent for a moment but when he'd mumbled that it was mostly to impress a boy, she laughed and taught him a few more lines that would be a lot more relevant to getting a guy naked than 'how is the weather today?' They'd then agreed to Skype to talk anyway, and Light had meant it when he said he was looking forward to it.

Ryuuzaki didn't seem surprised when Light greeted him on Saturday with ' _bonjour_.' However, he did seem surprised when Light did not then switch back to Japanese and continued in French as if he had no idea he was speaking a language that was brand-new to him.

Always up for a challenge, Ryuuzaki had switched to French, too, and it felt like a secret code that only they knew. "Either you were lying about not knowing French before the film," Ryuuzaki concluded after several minutes of this, "or you learned French in a week to impress me."

"I learned French in a week to impress you," Light said flippantly. "And because I discovered it was fun."

"Hm."

"Well?"

"Well, what?"

"Are you impressed?"

"Absent an immersion program? Highly."

Light preened. "So where are you taking me today?"

"More creative than dinner and a movie," Ryuuzaki said. "And less creative than what we're doing next weekend."

"You know what we're doing next weekend?"

"I've known it since we were at the park," Ryuuzaki said. "Come along."

Light got his coat. He still had Ryuuzaki's blue jacket from the time they'd gone to the park and he made Ryuuzaki put it on now. It was getting colder and colder by the day.

"I don't need a coat, Light."

"Is this experience completely indoors?" Light pressed. "Because the weather channel is calling for snow tonight."

Acting very put-upon, Ryuuzaki allowed himself to be coerced into proper behavior. He zipped it all the way, defiantly, and buried his nose in it. "It smells like you, now," he informed him. His voice came out muffled, and all Light could see was his dark eyes and his wild hair. It was… very cute.

"Oh? What do I smell like?" Light asked.

"Soap," Ryuuzaki said. "Strongly of unscented bar soap."

Light wrinkled his nose. "I hate the smell of soap."

"I don't." He popped his head out of his jacket. "Shall we go?"

"Wait," he insisted. "You still haven't answered. Is this indoors or outdoors?"

"How many layers does Light need?"

"Enough that I'm not cold and cranky while you're trying to show me something."

"It's almost entirely outdoors."

Light added on gloves, a scarf, and a hat, turned to Ryuuzaki, and nodded. "I'm ready."

The other boy gave him a long look. Light was about to ask why he was staring when he finally turned around to lead them out the door.

* * *

They were on the train again. People were staring at them, again, and Light again took a moment to look at the two of them through their eyes. Light, again, impeccable. Coordinating coat, hat, scarf, gloves, but not _too_ coordinating. A warm, well-fitting coat. Standing up straight and holding on in the train like a normal person. Ryuuzaki, bowed over and arm over-extended to hold on despite that position, over-large coat (it seemed it had fit Light better than it fit Ryuuzaki), untied shoes dragging their laces, no gloves or hat, and… yeah, he wasn't wearing any socks, even though it could snow and they would be outside.

Light took a step closer to him and the people he could feel staring all looked away.

"So you spent the entire week learning French," Ryuuzaki said to Light, who was standing much closer to him than necessary. He didn't complain.

"Yes. School and French. That was basically all I did last week."

"And how did you enjoy it?"

"It was interesting," Light said, thinking back. "I think I put together some things about English grammar I hadn't, before. It was nice to fill up my head." He knocked lightly on the side of his skull for emphasis.

Ryuuzaki nodded. "So your mental state this week was good."

He hadn't thought on it much, and he supposed that was sort of the answer. "My mind was too busy to turn on itself," he said. "And if it ever got not-busy it meant it was a chance to learn more French."

"Will you keep studying French, now?"

"Probably not."

"Maybe you'll work on another language, then."

"Maybe."

Someone on the train was staring despite Light's previous protective movement, so Light moved so he was holding the same hanging handle as Ryuuzaki, his gloved hand covering Ryuuzaki's. That finally got the person to look away. Light felt a little sting of accomplishment.

"You would have done so well at my school growing up," Ryuuzaki mused.

"Where did you go to school? I'm going to use context clues to assume that it was a special school."

"Mm," Ryuuzaki agreed. "I'm afraid I can't tell you much about it, actually. It's a secret school in England for genius orphans."

Light blinked. "That's pretty specific."

"There aren't many students," Ryuuzaki agreed. "But the ones that are there are from around the world. Watari is the headmaster and his partner takes care of the practical aspects."

"And you grew up there?"

Ryuuzaki nodded.

"And that's why you need socialization."

"Very much so," he agreed cheerfully. "You can imagine that a boarding school for genius orphans is not the place to learn to be normal."

"If Watari is the headmaster, why are you and he in Japan?"

Ryuuzaki stretched unexpectedly, making his back pop before reverting to his spine-crumbling hunch. "Well, as you know, I've been solving cases around the world for years. All from home. Watari decided I needed real-world experience, and the Japanese police force were willing to take me as an advisor despite my age, once I proved I was L, so we came to Japan. Watari intelligently didn't think I'd survive well on my own so he came with me. He'll go back when the time comes, whatever he has decided 'the time' is, and I'll… well. I don't strictly have a plan at this point."

"L Himself doesn't have a plan? I thought you came pre-loaded with plans."

"Where would be the fun in that?" Ryuuzaki smiled. "Now, don't let what I am about to say undermine that statement, but this is our planned stop."

Light chuckled and they exited together. He missed the feeling of Ryuuzaki's hand under his on the train handle.

He had never been to this part of the city, before. It was getting dark, as it began to so early in wintertime. Ryuuzaki led them towards a building.

"Where does Watari think you are right now?"

"Mm. At the station."

"And the station?"

Ryuuzaki smirked. "At home, of course."

They entered the building. It was some kind of office building, closed for the day and uninhabited.

"How are we in this office building?" Light asked as they were very much inside it. "And didn't you say this experiment was outdoors?"

"I have many connections," Ryuuzaki said. "And yes, it is. Be patient, Light."

"I'm not very patient," he complained good-naturedly.

Ryuuzaki sped up, disappearing behind a cluster of office plants and withdrawing a picnic basket.

"We're having a winter picnic?" Light asked.

"We are," Ryuuzaki said. "On the roof."

Light nodded. "You were right."

"Which time? You'll have to be more specific."

"That this is more creative than dinner and a movie, and probably less creative than what's going to happen next weekend."

Ryuuzaki led them up a stairwell that led to the roof, propping it open behind them so they wouldn't get locked on the roof to freeze to death. It was nice to be on a date with a genius.

Ryuuzaki put the basket down and opened it, removing a picnic blanket. Light watched him set it up, and then watched as Ryuuzaki set up two place settings. Two thermoses each and, Light was pleased to see, two slices of cake.

Light sat down beside him. "What's in these?" he asked.

"Soup, in one." He indicated the larger. "It's salty and has noodles, like the udon did, so you'll probably be able to enjoy it. And tea in the other, the same kind as we had at your house. For you. Hot chocolate for me, but you don't seem to like chocolate, so you got tea even though hot chocolate would make much more sense in this situation."

A meal entirely of food that Light sort of liked. He smiled, picking up the thermos of soup. "Thank you." It was tricky to open with gloves, but he managed. Ryuuzaki seemed to equally struggle to open his soup with stiff, frozen fingers, but similarly managed.

He sipped his soup and looked out over the city.

Light hated cities. That was one thing that he thought he may never get over. Cities were where all the people were, millions of them, and all of them sucked the Earth dry, and in cities the pollution was concentrated, so concentrated you could taste it. And they were loud, and crowded, and…

And the lights at night, from so high up—how many stories was this?—were _beautiful_.

There were so many lights, and although his mind tried to insist that each light was simply a drain on the power grid by people who selfishly wanted to do stupid activities past the hours allowed by nature, it didn't quite break through. He'd never specifically gone to a roof before. He'd never looked out at the city for more than a glance before—he'd strictly kept his head down, looking at the ground. It was dark, now, and the air was cold and clear, and the lights were warm and yellow. It was too dark to see individual buildings clearly, but the white streetlights and headlights and red traffic lights and brake lights cast a clean glow on the outlines, making everything at once sharp and dark.

There was an apartment building across from them, and a few of the rooms had their blinds open. Light could see right inside. Bathed in the warm, yellow light, people were doing things. They had no idea they were being watched, but Light had no ill-intent so he didn't feel guilty. In one living room, a group of teenagers were sitting around playing a tabletop game together, but they couldn't make any progress because they kept laughing and getting distracted. In another, a woman was sitting by her window and reading a book by the light of a table lamp, curled up on an armchair and wrapped up to her neck in a thick blanket. In another, a father was teaching a little girl, undeniably his daughter, how to dance. She was standing on his feet looking focused as he taught her the steps.

The weather channel had called for snow, and now the snow was starting to fall. It wasn't much. Not even enough to stick. Just enough, honestly, to look pretty. Big, fluffy flakes fell straight down, landed in hair and on shoulders, lingered, and then melted away. They were catching the light, too, and without wind they fell pretty much evenly spaced, and it was like being surrounded by thousands of stars.

Light felt…

Light felt.

And he didn't want it to stop, and he was afraid to speak. He didn't want to lose this. He knew he would, but not yet. He just wanted to watch the people doing lovely things in their homes and look at the glowing snowflakes and see the faint stars, hard to see with city lights but not impossible, and drink this soup and feel warmth in his stomach but ice on his skin. How did one hold onto a feeling? How could you make sure you memorized a moment like this so that when it was gone you could still feel it?

You couldn't, of course. Once you realized it was a moment that you could never get back, that would end as soon as you over-thought it, then you'd already over-thought it and it was already over, and you'd wasted it.

He felt a gloveless hand come to rest on his.

He took a deep breath and let it out. It smelled faintly like turpentine. The fingers tightened around his and he took another deep breath, forcing his body to relax.

It was all still there. Still not… well. Still beautiful.

Snow was beautiful. The city lights were beautiful. The people in the apartment… they were kind of beautiful, too.

Neither of them spoke until the soup was completely gone, and neither of them rushed through the soup.

"This is pretty damn romantic for science," Light said finally, voice quiet so as not to break the spell of night and snow.

"Do you like snow?" Ryuuzaki asked in response.

"I think I'm starting to."

"I would think you'd find it clean." He thought about it. "Ah, but it's frozen water from Earth, which is polluted, isn't it? And it causes accidents."

Light shot him half a smile. "You're right."

"But tonight, you like it."

Light nodded.

"How do you feel right now?"

Light thought about it. Really thought about it. "Peaceful," he said finally. "At first, before you. Well. I had this sense of foreboding, because I knew this wouldn't last." He shook his head. "No, it's not that. Obviously, no happy moment lasts forever, not for anyone. It's more like." He licked his lips then regretted it, knowing they'd just get chapped. "I am swimming through poison." He'd tried to explain things to Ryuuzaki, before, but he still wasn't used to it, and he struggled. "And I have this big air bubble around my head. But it's a bubble that won't pop if you poke it with a pin, it'll just let air seep out. But what pokes the little holes isn't pins but noticing that the bubble or the poison is there. And as long as I can keep distracted or engaged or thinking positive, then I don't notice it, and the barrier holds. But I still know I'm swimming in poison and that I'll notice it at some point, and a weak point in the bubble will break and poison will start to seep in. And the poison as it seeps in breaks down other parts of the barrier, and then it's gone and I'm drowning." He stopped, waiting for the poison to creep in because he'd thought about it now, and worse he'd talked about it. But it didn't. He still felt how he'd felt before he'd answered the question.

"But right now, you feel peaceful?"

Light nodded, smiling a little. "Yes."

"Then would you like some cake?"

" _Yes_."

Ryuuzaki handed him a fork and Light shifted, the better to sit up and eat. It was better than he'd ever remembered. He took tiny bites, making it last fifteen minutes without ever stopping eating it. Ryuuzaki's, however, was gone in two.

When he finally did finish his own cake, he took his tea and sipped at that.

"It tastes like dirt," he said. "But in a good way."

"Tea tastes like dirt," Ryuuzaki confirmed.

"Oh. Good."

Ryuuzaki finished his hot chocolate quickly, too, then pulled another blanket out of the basket. As Light was starting to wonder what else was in that thing, he pulled out one more blanket, this one rolled up long and thin.

"That's it," he assured Light. He put the rolled-up blanket near the top of their picnic blanket.

Realizing what he was doing, Light finished the last of his tea and set it aside. He laid down on his back, resting his head on the rolled-up blanket. Ryuuzaki spread the other blanket out over Light, then maneuvered until he was under the blanket as well.

It was a little bit warmer that way. Light scooted closer to Ryuuzaki, slipping off his glove for when Ryuuzaki inevitably tried to hold Light's hand- even though Ryuuzaki's cold hands were his own fault. When Ryuuzaki did, he found it ungloved. He wrapped their fingers together.

Ryuuzaki shifted slightly, tilting his head until it was leaning on Light's shoulder.

"I must confess," he said. "I will not have you home by eight tonight."

"Oh yeah?" He tilted his head, too, putting it against the top of Ryuuzaki's. His hair was cold and damp from melted snow, but Light didn't move. "What time is it?"

"Nearly midnight."

Light huffed out a small laugh. "I hope you have a plan for how we are getting home if we miss the last train."

Ryuuzaki hummed vaguely. "Creativity?"

Light chuckled and cuddled in closer.

* * *

They did not make the last train, and it did require creativity to get home, though that creativity came in the form of a taxi for which Ryuuzaki shelled out incredible money without batting an eyelash. Ryuuzaki got out of the taxi when they stopped in front of Light's house, telling it to wait. He walked to Light's door with him, their fingers still tangled together.

This time, neither of them started it. They both came together, warm breath a welcome relief from the cold but lips too numb to do much with them. Instead of clumsily kissing, Light rested his forehead against Ryuuzaki's. Ryuuzaki stilled.

"Meter's running," Light said quietly after several moments.

"I'm fabulously wealthy," Ryuuzaki said quietly back. "And you are warm."

"Just leaning on me because I'm warm?" he jabbed gently.

"Mmno. The cab is much warmer. I am leaning on you because I want to." With that, Ryuuzaki pulled away just enough to give Light another kiss on unfeeling lips. "But the meter _is_ running," he said. "I will see you next week, Light."

"See you next week."

"My house, Saturday, if you would. Any time."

"Careful or I'll show up at 12:01."

Ryuuzaki shrugged, backing towards the cab. "I'll be awake."

"Three AM."

"Still awake."

"Five?"

Ryuuzaki stopped, smiled a little. "That's when I take my half-hour nightly nap. So I have to say no to any time between 4:45 and 5:15."

Light sighed dramatically. "Fine, I guess. I'll just see you at ten."

"Ten it is." He turned and got into the taxi, and soon he was out of sight.

Soaked, frozen, and quietly radiant, Light stripped off his wet outer clothes, leaving them in an inconsiderate pile on the floor which he knew would be forgiven as it had never happened before. He trudged upstairs, trying to coordinate cold, stiff joints with enough success that he eventually made it to his bed. He stripped off the rest of his clothes, then, and crawled into bed, pulling the covers up and over his head so his breath would heat up the space under the blankets.

He was asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow.


	6. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer: I do not own Death Note.**

* * *

Sunday, Light Skype called his French tutor. It wasn't the correct Sunday but he pretended they'd miscommunicated and she was happy to talk to him early. She asked if the boy had been impressed and Light said he had. She asked if Light had gotten to use the French phrase 'I want you to make me come' and Light said he had not. From there, she had launched into a barrage of poignant questions and shocking insights, and Light realized the benefits of having a female friend.

Or probably, just the benefits of having a friend. Specifically a friend with social skills, a normal intelligence, and the ability to empathize.

It really cleared a lot of things up, though Light couldn't have put his finger on exactly what.

It was a good hour long conversation, which they held in French so Light's family wouldn't get too many details, and when they finally logged off Light still felt as good as he had the night before. He wanted to examine it. He was also terrified to examine it. Either of those things could let poison into his bubble, and he needed that not to happen. He could learn, couldn't he? To blow so hard that his bubble got bigger and bigger, and to not blow so hard that he punctured it?

So he went downstairs to see what his family was up to. They weren't doing anything interesting, so Light did something he was distinctly not used to doing: he left the house completely on his own.

He went to the library.

He hadn't been very many times, so this time he took as much time as he wanted, wandering through the aisles. It wasn't weird to be alone at the library. It wasn't weird to linger there, either, or not look purposeful. Once in a while, he saw a book title that momentarily interested him. He pulled each one out to look at it and put each one back when his interest waned.

It was still nice, though, to just go through the stacks. It was a much larger library than he'd ever realized. He went through every section except the children's books, because there were children there and he did not think his dislike of children had anything to do with his brain melting out of his ears. He lingered in the psychology section, remembering the books Ryuuzaki had had on his floor. If _L_ could find these kinds of books interesting, then maybe they were. He'd avoided psychology like the plague: a subject entirely about how people were fucked up psychos being read by a fucked up psycho? But, someone like Ryuuzaki liked it.

He wondered if his French tutor also liked psychology. He realized his father had probably had to take at least a few psychology classes, himself. Maybe he'd get a book.

He stared at the psychology section for a while. None of these were the ones he'd seen on Ryuuzaki's floor, so he didn't have any strict guidance. He put his hand out and picked one at random.

 _Double-Blind, Randomly Selected Studies and their Confounding Variables._

No, he wasn't going to read about research design for fun, thank you.

 _A Brief History of Freud with a Discussion of Jung._

It was at least 600 pages long. Light wasn't afraid of reading, but did anyone really need that much history about one specific thing?

 _The Man Who Mistook His Wife for a Hat_ by Oliver Sacks.

The title was intriguing and, when he read the jacket, so was the subject matter—case studies of people with traumatic brain injuries, who'd had strokes, who worked differently now than they had before and how they learned to adapt to their new worlds, and a man with a degenerative brain disease that literally thought his wife was a hat and tried to put her on his head.

Light hesitantly put it under his arm and kept looking, taking all of the other books by Oliver Sacks that the library had, as well.

In the end, he walked away with eight different books on the general subject of psychology and one textbook about the anatomy of the senses and the psychology of how they affected a person.

He sat down to read one of the books, selected at random from his pile.

When he next looked up, there was a librarian in front of him, smiling at him and asking him very, very nicely if he would think about leaving soon.

He checked out all of the books and took them home, mind full of, well, the mind.

But not his own mind.

He went to his room when he got home and finished the book he'd started in the library. When he did, it was too late to start another one. He took a quick shower, brushed his teeth, and went to bed.

Monday, Light woke up early and made the near-fatal mistake of deciding to read a chapter of what turned out to be an excellent book before getting ready for school. Three chapters later, his mother was knocking on his door, asking if he was ill and if he was going to school that day. He hurriedly got up, threw on his uniform, and had no time for anything else as he flew to school. He walked into his class as the bell rang, ungroomed but, apparently, glorious, because three different girls slipped him their phone numbers that day.

He couldn't help but feel a little bit smug about it. If he told Ryuuzaki about it, would he be jealous? What would a jealous Ryuuzaki be like? He flashed back briefly to the way he'd gotten kissed in that movie theater but had to force his mind to other matters.

He read all day upon his return home and sent his French tutor a message, asking for her phone number. When she gave it, he texted her about psychology and learned that she had minored in psychology in university and had read _The Man Who Mistook His Wife for a Hat_ , as apparently every psychology person had.

Light read that one Tuesday.

Wednesday, the weather couldn't have been worse. He looked out his window at the snow and thought about how pretty it had been on the rooftop and how miserable-looking it was now.

But it _could_ be beautiful.

Thursday, the weather proved that it could, in fact, get worse, and as a result school was cancelled. He had not accounted for that much free time. He went into a book-reading frenzy, and it worked for several hours, but when Light really cracked down he could read terribly quickly, and he got through all the books that sounded at all interesting to him at the moment.

He didn't know what else to do with his time, and he was scared. He was trapped in his room by the weather and his general lack of desire to socialize with his family, and there was nothing to do in his room. He was locked in his room with some books he couldn't bring himself to read and a computer that had never helped him before. He tried to study French but he couldn't settle down enough to get words situated in his brain. He tried to look up psychology articles but still he couldn't focus. Those were his new interests, the ones he'd been hanging onto. Did he have any other interests? Not as far as he knew. Maybe this would be a good time to discover one.

He sat down at his computer and looked up weather, but his eyes just kept crossing. He looked up cake recipes but they just made him feel ill. He looked up 'L, detective,' too, but the internet was surprisingly silent about that one…

What the hell else did Light find interesting?

He stared at the Google page with the cursor blinking at him. He knew he had to occupy his mind, but his mind was refusing to be occupied. How was that fair? Here he was, _trying_ , and it still wasn't working.

He looked at the clock. It was eight. It was early for bed, but maybe it was safer just to go to bed. Maybe he'd wake up tomorrow at a better starting point. Maybe he should just give this day up for lost.

He got ready for bed and had turned in by eight thirty.

* * *

Friday, the sun was out. He woke up bright and early, and it was a beautiful day. Truly. He got himself out of bed and dressed and to school, but something was just off. People were annoying, that Friday. They were ruder than usual or something. Maybe it was because they'd had the day before off and that day was Friday, but for some reason it seemed like all his classmates were bouncing off the walls, and it was making Light homicidal. The teacher seemed to be in a similar state (that is, homicidal) and had much less control of her class than usual. Light saw the exact moment when she gave up trying and simply turned to the board and kept teaching as if anyone other than a very few students was paying attention. It filled him with an acidic, seething rage, and his lungs filled up with thick, rancid phlegm.

No. He hadn't felt this way in days. In a lifetime, practically. He'd gotten through the day before and gotten himself to school, and now these people were going to ruin it for him. Could he not have a moment where he didn't have to fight off the entire world? Was it always going to be like this, with only his fragile bubble keeping out the poison? Was the rest of his life going to be one manic distraction after another, over and over until finally he was dead and rotting and didn't need distraction anymore?

These people were idiots. These people were lucky idiots and they had no idea. They were so, so lucky. They could be entertained by this bullshit in school, it was enough to activate their tiny brains, but they refused to even let it happen. They refused to such an extent that they made it impossible for anyone who did _not_ want to be an idiot, to learn stuff to stop being an idiot. They had no idea how much work it was to keep _his_ stupid brain from melting and they just let theirs melt, imposing themselves on everyone else. They weren't like him, or Ryuuzaki, or the people Light had seen in their living rooms from the opposite roof, or his French tutor, or his parents. _These_ were the useless people. All of these students, and this teacher who was just thinking about going home when she should have been taking control and forcing these idiots to use their brains and stop inflicting themselves upon the world.

Light wasn't the problem—he'd never _been_ the problem. Other people were the problem, imposing on him and all the worthwhile people in the world, making _his_ life unlivable, _making_ him crazy and then making him hide it for fear of really getting locked away-

Suddenly, everyone was looking at him and the room was silent.

Light realized he was standing. He realized his hands were fists and flattened against his desk.

He did not remember standing, or making fists, or flattening them against his desk.

The teacher did not look happy.

The teacher looked very, very unhappy.

Not sad-unhappy, though. Angry.

Angry at Light?

Light looked from face to face. Yes, there was no question that he had spoken. From the utter hush, he figured it was more likely that he'd actually shouted. From the pale expressions, he'd either just shrieked or he'd said something… well, probably something true. Probably something related to what he'd been thinking just then. Maybe that hadn't all been happening only in his head.

Shit.

"If you are so much smarter than the rest of the class, Mr. Yagami," his teacher said, deadly quiet, "you may explain that to the dean. Perhaps he will free you from the obligation of subjecting yourself to such unpleasant company."

Light should say something. He should apologize, bow deeply, say he was stressed out about something at home, and sit back down. He should throw up or pass out and say later he'd just been sick, he was terribly sorry and hadn't meant it. But the words were out, whatever they were, and he knew in his gut that he hadn't said anything that he didn't deeply believe. And he was more than a little tired of pretending.

He stood in silence for several long, long moments, and then the smell of all of them—each and every student and even the teacher— was simply too much.

Light walked out of class for the second time in his life, and out the front door, and he did not go to the dean.

He knew what would happen next, so he texted his mother to preempt it.

 _I'm fine. I'm sorry. I'll explain when I get home._

She'd see that before she got the call from the school so she wouldn't have a heart attack when they told her that her perfect son had not only flipped out, but had left the school and they had no idea where he'd gone. He was absolutely not ready to go home and have the inevitable conversation, though, so he didn't. Not yet. He would, he really would, but not yet.

It was still a beautiful day—the weather hadn't changed, as he'd only managed to be at school for a few hours. He could take that walk he'd wanted to take the day before or the day before that or whatever the hell day that had been. It felt like a thousand years ago.

He had two options. He could dick around and eventually end up at Ryuuzaki's house, or he could simply go straight there. He decided to go straight there and not waste the time.

He walked right to the front door and rang the doorbell. Naturally it was Watari who answered.

"Hello, Light," he said. He looked him over slowly. "Did you have a hard day?" he asked carefully.

Light thought about saying something, but words seemed inadequate. He nodded, silent.

"And you would like to visit with Ryuuzaki and, as they say, hash out the details."

He nodded again.

"Well, he is working from home, today. I'm sure he can spare some time."

Light swallowed hard and nodded a third time.

Watari let him in and, to Light's immense relief, let him go up the stairs alone. He knocked on Ryuuzaki's door when he arrived there. His knock must have been different from Watari's because instead of simply telling Watari to come in, there was a long pause.

"…Light?" came Ryuuzaki's voice finally, and then the door opened and Ryuuzaki was there, or more accurately L was there, with a headset and more unkempt even than he usually was, and his powerful computer running and a big, black "L" on the center of the screen and a microphone in place.

Light looked at the microphone warily, realizing his father could be on the other end of it.

"It's muted," Ryuuzaki said, following his gaze. "Come in."

He didn't bother with politeness. He didn't bother saying 'oh, I'm sorry, you're working.' He wasn't sorry. He didn't say he didn't mean to interrupt, because he absolutely did mean to interrupt. He didn't say anything at all about 'don't mind me' or 'don't stop on my account,' because he damn well wanted Ryuuzaki to mind him and if Ryuuzaki didn't drop everything on his account, immediately, Light would waste no time in making a scene.

It was his theme for the day, after all.

Light came in, not being as careful as he had been before with Ryuuzaki's stupid (cute) piles of candy wrappers, and sat down on his bed.

Ryuuzaki went back to his computer and told whoever he was speaking with that something had come up and he would be back later. He didn't wait for their agreement before he ended the call, turned off his microphone, and removed his headset.

He turned his chair to face his bed where Light sat. They were in the opposite positions from before, Light observed faintly.

"You are skipping class," Ryuuzaki said mildly, though his eyes were locked on him.

"I am," Light agreed. They were the first words he'd said since whatever he'd said to his classmates and teacher. "I walked out."

"I am guessing that you did not walk out just to come visit me."

"No."

"Then?"

Light sighed. "I blew up at school. During class."

"Ah."

"I guess I yelled at all of them."

"You guess?"

"I don't remember any of it."

Ryuuzaki nodded. "Well, were they being intolerable?"

" _Yes_ ," Light said heavily. "Yes. They were."

Ryuuzaki came to sit next to him. "Then it is only natural that you could no longer tolerate them."

At least it made sense to Ryuuzaki, even if it didn't make sense to Light and was absolutely not going to make sense to anyone else.

"I'm going to get in so much trouble."

"No you won't."

"Why not?"

"You have no prior offences," Ryuuzaki shrugged. "Maybe you'll get a 'firm talking-to.' But if you just, oh, swore at your classmates and called them a few rude names, they certainly won't expel you. They'll probably send you to a school counselor."

Light nodded slowly.

"Plus." He bumped him gently. "You assured me in no uncertain terms only a month ago that you own the school and can do as you like, same as me."

Light groaned and dropped his head onto Ryuuzaki's shoulder. Ryuuzaki shifted to make it a flatter surface for him.

"What will I tell my parents?" he asked.

"Hm, my only advice, I strongly suspect that Light will very much not like…"

"You're going to suggest I tell the truth," Light sighed.

"Unfortunately, yes."

"You think I should tell them everything?"

Ryuuzaki considered this. "I almost never suggest telling any one person everything," he said. "But I think you should tell them the pared down version of everything. Tell them… that you're losing your mind with boredom. Tell them you're not happy and you want to take some courses at the university, for example. They clearly adore you, Light, they'd do anything you needed."

He'd never considered just telling his parents everything.

It was theoretically possible though, wasn't it? He could actually just sit them down and tell them the whole entire story. He'd always just assumed that they'd have him locked up, but Ryuuzaki hadn't even thought he was crazy in the first place.

Ryuuzaki's computer made an urgent sound. He glanced at it, then returned his attention to Light. He didn't press him, didn't even demand an answer.

Probably, he already knew what Light was going to decide. That was annoying as Light did not yet know what he was going to decide, but it was also a little bit nice.

He rested there on his shoulder for a while, feeling Ryuuzaki's breath and the rise and fall of his shoulder. He took a breath in. Ryuuzaki still didn't smell quite like cake, like he was apparently supposed to, but he only smelled a little bit sour.

"Are you smelling me?"

"I am."

"And?"

"Sour, but not too sour. Like the crusty rim on a carton of milk when the milk is still good."

"That certainly paints a picture."

Light hummed and relaxed more against him. He felt Ryuuzaki tense for a moment, but it only lasted long enough for an arm to wrap around Light's waist, and then Ryuuzaki relaxed back into him. He was warm and Light automatically moved into it, which made Ryuuzaki wrap his other arm around Light, too, until Light found he was simply in Ryuuzaki's arms, his face buried in his neck.

He felt…

Worried about school. Very. Worried about what his parents would say. But also a little bit hopeful that it would be okay.

He pressed a gentle kiss to the crook of Ryuuzaki's neck to thank him, drawing a small hum of acknowledgement.

They stayed like that for a long time.

Soon, the number of texts Light was getting was becoming impossible to ignore in good conscience. He sighed and straightened. "I need to get home," he said.

"Good luck," Ryuuzaki said.

Light stood, lingering near the other boy.

"Will you come by tomorrow?"

"If my parents don't murder me."

Ryuuzaki nodded.

Finally Light left without another word.

* * *

He got home to find not only his mother but also his father waiting for him inside the front door. The moment he stepped inside, the _instant_ the door was closed behind him, they landed on him like thousand pound weights.

He waited for the initial storm to pass, but it took a good long while. It was a barrage of questions, too fast for Light to answer if he'd even intended to. Was he on drugs? Was he being bullied? Had L broken his heart? Was he too stressed about exams? About university? Why had he blown up in class, _why_ had he left the school, had he lost his mind? Why wasn't he answering them?

It culminated in Light's mother surging forward and taking both of his hands, eyes big and anxious, and finally asking, "What happened, Light?"

Light took a deep breath. "When I was little… really little… do you remember when I would complain that everything smelled bad?"

They looked at each other, doing that married-person communication thing again. "Yes," his mother said finally. "Though I'm surprised you do, Light."

"Maybe I wouldn't," he agreed. "Except that it didn't go away."

And he told them. He told them about pretending the olfactory hallucinations had gone away. He told them about how they hadn't. He told them that to him, everything smelled like rot, all the time, and how dust sometimes filled his lungs so much he couldn't breathe. He told them that food tasted like Styrofoam and that sidewalks sucked him down up to the knees, and that that was why he was sometimes late getting home. He told them that people smelled the worst, worse than anything, and that he thought the reason was because they were all so, so stupid that their brains rotten and leaked out of their ears. He told them that everything people touched they destroyed, that the Earth itself was rotting because of them. Light told his parents that school was driving him quite literally mad, that he couldn't even hear the teachers talk most days over the roar in his ears, and that as far as he could tell the reason he'd stood up in class and yelled—which he couldn't remember doing—was that he finally couldn't stand it anymore. He told them that he'd lost a day two weeks ago, that sometimes he forgot to eat and shower and brush his teeth, and that there was not a single person at school who he cared if they lived or died in agony.

They were silent as they let him speak, and silent when he was finished.

"So," he said, even more slowly, "the only excuse I have for my outburst at school is that I simply snapped, and I'm sorry. Ryuuzaki doesn't think I'll get into too much trouble, if I tell the teacher the truth."

They were still silent. His mother was in tears. His father didn't look terribly far away from them.

This was basically how he'd expected it to go.

He shifted from foot to foot.

"We didn't know," his father asked finally. He spoke quietly but his voice was loud in the ringing silence.

"I never told anyone," Light said. "Not until Ryuuzaki worked it out on his own."

"The school called," his mother said next. "They want you to meet with a counselor."

"Okay."

"They think you're over-stressed about exams," she said.

It made Light's lips curve into the slightest hint of a smile. "Well, that's one thing I can assure you is absolutely not on my mind."

The slight smile seemed to make a little bit of tension leave his parents.

"I'd like to go to bed," he said tentatively.

They nodded hesitantly.

"I promise I'll report to the counselor on Monday."

Hopefully that would end the conversation there…

It did, mostly. They asked a few hesitant questions, which he figured they needed to do to reassure themselves that they weren't going to find him dead the next morning. He answered them honestly and, soon, he was allowed to leave.

He was so tired that he felt like he was wearing fifty pounds of clothes and soaking wet, but it didn't come with the same, crushing feeling it usually came with.

He didn't shower, but it wasn't because he couldn't. It was because he would be seeing Ryuuzaki the next day, and he'd rather be freshly showered the next morning. He did brush his teeth and he did change into pajamas. He did get into bed and tug the blankets tightly around him.

He got a text.

 _Conversation over?_

 _Yes._

His phone rang. He smiled at it before picking up.

"So are they sending you away?" Ryuuzaki asked as if this was not the first time they'd ever spoken to each other on the phone.

"Yes," Light said. "I'm being shipped off next Tuesday to a medium-security mental institution. It's in Sweden. Apparently there's a whole slew of people exactly like me, and all of them end up being cannibals."

"Hm," Ryuuzaki hummed. "That's too bad."

"So far, they all only eat the willing," Light offered.

"Oh! Well that's okay, then."

Quiet for a moment, but it wasn't awkward.

"You were right," Light said. "And yes," he interrupted, "I know I need to narrow it down. You were right about the school's reaction."

"You're not being punished, then."

"No. But they do want me to go to counseling."

"I once knew someone who entertained himself by driving his psychiatrists to suicide. He was up to six before he set himself on fire to prove a point to me. You could do that, minus setting yourself on fire."

"I'm going to ask you to elaborate on that story, but later."

"It's a very interesting one."

Light smiled. He sensed Ryuuzaki smiling on the other end of the phone as well.

"So are you going?"

"Can't hurt, right?" Light said.

"Not you," Ryuuzaki agreed. "But apparently it's really dangerous to be a therapist if your patient is a psychopath."

Light imagined him looking at the ceiling in contemplation and the image made him chuckle.

Ryuuzaki's voice dropped to a whisper. "Watari is coming. Have to hang up."

The line went dead.

Moments later, Light got another text.

 _Sorry. Continue?_

So Light continued over text, propping himself up in bed to make sure he didn't fall asleep mid-text. He should text Ryuuzaki more often, he was really funny over-

There was a knock on his door and Light just about shat himself, accidentally dropping his phone so aggressively that it was more like throwing it. "Come in," he called, dropping his top half over the side of his bed to search for his phone wherever it had gone.

When he looked up, Ryuuzaki was in his room, mostly a silhouette against the blinding hallway. Light sat up, phone forgotten. "How-"

"Your parents let me in," Ryuuzaki answered before Light could even ask the question. He closed Light's bedroom door behind him, plunging them back into darkness.

"What-"

"Visiting you."

"Why?"

"Because I want to."

"Come here."

Obedient, for once, Ryuuzaki crossed Light's room—a much easier feat than crossing his own— and as he approached Light's bed, Light opened up the blankets. He climbed in next to him and then dropped the blankets onto them both, enfolding them together in the warmth. He laid down on his side, facing him. Ryuuzaki did the same.

Light's heart was beating hard.

"Stay," Light said.

"Alright."

"Sleep here."

"I understood that to be what you meant by stay."

"Good."

"You're not going home,"

"Yes, Light, I understand the definition of staying."

Light nodded.

Ryuuzaki rolled his eyes good-naturedly and shifted closer to him. "Nice room," he said.

"Thanks."

"It's dark, but what I can see of it is lovely. And there isn't anything to trip on."

"Yeah."

"You are meticulous."

"That's one word for it."

"Obsessive?"

He, too, scooted closer. "Better."

Their noses were just about touching, now, but not quite. Still, Ryuuzaki was close enough that Light could _feel_ him there, as if gravity were just slightly stronger exactly where Ryuuzaki was.

"So the conversation went well?" Ryuuzaki asked, continuing the phone conversation they'd just been having but which felt like a million years ago.

"Pretty well," Light agreed. He hesitantly reached out and put his top arm over Ryuuzaki's side. "It could have gone a lot worse. Obviously that Swedish institution didn't really happen."

"That's good," Ryuuzaki murmured.

"Yeah?"

"Yes."

What scintillating dialogue they were having right now. What brilliant, witty repartee.

"Good," Light agreed.

Silence.

"I told my parents that you know everything," Light said.

Ryuuzaki hummed. "I was going to tell them that, if they wouldn't let me in. It explains why they just about pushed me up the stairs."

"I also told them you worked it out on your own."

"I did," Ryuuzaki agreed. "Mostly. And the information your volunteered you volunteered only after excessive effort on my part."

"Going to the park is excessive effort?"

"I was all but a hermit before I met you," Ryuuzaki said simply.

It hit Light like a bolt; the realization that Ryuuzaki might be learning something from Light, as well. It had never occurred to him, not even once, that the boy might get something out of Light other than amusement, a research study, and a cop out of Watari's socialization requirements.

"You're my first friend," Ryuuzaki added, and it wasn't exactly a surprise but the clear, concise realization blew Light's mind even further.

Ryuuzaki was odd. He was _really_ odd. He was strange looking, too. More than that- Ryuuzaki's presence made a room feel a little surreal, with his big, black eyes on you and simultaneously everyone and everything else, too. Light liked it, but he could imagine other people not liking it, sure. He remembered the people on the train. The way teachers and classmates had barely even acknowledged him. And he did sort of bring to mind a serial killer.

Light was the opposite, but also he was so very, very much _not_ opposite. Ryuuzaki simply didn't _seem_ that odd to him, and that was probably an indication, more than anything else was, of how incredibly odd Light was at his core, as well. Ryuuzaki just made intuitive sense to him. Of course he stood that way, of course he didn't wear socks, of course he only ate sweets if he had a say in it. He was Ryuuzaki, and those were the things that Ryuuzaki did.

Ryuuzaki understood him, too. He didn't just know everything, he understood. He understood Light's struggling, fumbling descriptions of _why_ things smelled the way they did. Whyclouds might be rotten, too, and why it was still sort of up for debate.

Ryuuzaki understood everything, but maybe Light was the first person Ryuuzaki had understood entirely independently of his intellect. Maybe Ryuuzaki understood Light intuitively, too, and maybe that was good for Ryuuzaki like knowing Ryuuzaki had been good for Light. Maybe wanting to be around Light made Ryuuzaki get out of his bedroom, like wanting to be with Ryuuzaki had gotten Light out of his. Maybe planning their science/dates/science dates got him out of the work for just long enough to get him back out into the world. Maybe Ryuuzaki had looked into those other people's homes from that rooftop and thought about something, too. Probably not the same thing as Light, but maybe he'd realized something as well, something profound and important, like Light had. Maybe Light finally gave Ryuuzaki the challenge he needed, not just through the cases he handled. Maybe Light made him actually _want_ something, to win against an opponent who was legitimately capable of beating him—he thought of how Ryuuzaki had nearly eaten him alive in the movie theater, the way he looked at him sometimes.

Maybe Light woke Ryuuzaki up from sleep the way that Ryuuzaki pulled Light up from underwater.

He didn't tell Ryuuzaki that he was his first friend, either. It was probably pretty obvious. Instead, he said what was so much more important. "You're not boring."

Ryuuzaki's arm encircled Light's waist the same way that Light's was wrapped around Ryuuzaki. "Neither are you."

Light smiled and didn't even notice he was doing it because it didn't feel like it was making his face crack.

"You'll still come over tomorrow?" Ryuuzaki asked again. "I do have something planned. Your parents will let you leave?"

"I'll leave whether they let me or not," Light said. "Though I'm pretty sure they'd let me go anywhere if it was with you."

"I am the world's three greatest detectives," Ryuuzaki agreed solemnly.

"…Three?"

He nodded.

"I'm going to want an explanation of that later, too," Light said.

"I'll tell you everything," Ryuuzaki replied.

Light closed the very small distance between them to touch their noses together gently. "Not everything," he disagreed. "Leave plenty for me to work out on my own."

Ryuuzaki huffed a slight laugh. "Certainly."

Light wanted to kiss him. Feeling him there, feeling his breath, he wanted to do a lot _more_ than kiss him. And he could. He knew Ryuuzaki would let him (with enthusiasm), he knew his parents wouldn't interrupt them somehow. All of that, though, would require losing this exact moment, and that was a trade he just didn't want to make.

So, he didn't move an inch. Neither did Ryuuzaki. And when Light eventually fell asleep, in the middle of a sentence several hours later, it was still without leaving Ryuuzaki's arms.


	7. Chapter 7

**Disclaimer: I do not own Death Note.**

 **A/N: Last chapter- thanks for reading!**

* * *

Waking up next to Ryuuzaki was not nearly as romantic as falling asleep with him had been.

Specifically because, Light learned that morning, one did not wake up _next_ to Ryuuzaki, one woke up _inside_ Ryuuzaki.

And not in a sexy way.

There was just not any other way to describe how he found himself entirely entangled in Ryuuzaki's limbs upon regaining consciousness the next morning. There were only the four of these limbs, Light was sure of it, but for the life of him he could not figure out which limb was which or how they made the angles they were making. Light felt like he was being wrapped up by an octopus or possibly a giant squid. There were no parts of his body that he could still move freely. Also, importantly, his face was somehow pressed directly and firmly into Ryuuzaki's armpit.

He wiggled, trying to either dislodge the boy or wake him up. Neither eventuality occurred. He tried again, harder and harder until it was clear that no type of movement would make Ryuuzaki stir. Next, he tried calling his name, but he could only do that so loudly because he didn't want to terrify his parents.

Eventually, he could see only one solution. There were probably others and he could _probably_ find them if he actually applied his mind, but he was annoyed and this was much more fun: Light bit him.

Hard.

Ryuuzaki yelped and woke up immediately, withdrawing all his limbs from the biting creature he'd apparently wrapped them around. When he saw that the biting creature was Light, he narrowed his eyes at him.

"You bit me."

"You boa-constricted me."

"'Boa-constricted' is not a verb."

"There's a reason people don't cuddle with octopuses."

Ryuuzaki rolled his eyes grandly and sat up, looking like he'd been hit by a truck. Apparently the reason his hair was like that was because he slept aggressively, because it was even worse now than usual, which Light learned was possible.

Ryuuzaki looked him over and groaned aloud. "Of course you wake up like that."

"What?"

"You wake _up_ looking like that," Ryuuzaki said. "Fuck, Light."

Light liked the sound of that word in Ryuuzaki's voice. It definitely did not sound natural. He filed that information away for later. "What do you mean?" he asked, trying to sound innocent.

"Lie," Ryuuzaki droned. "Do you know you look even better with your hair a little ruffled?"

"That's why I always make sure to do my hair in the morning," Light shot back. "Can't expose our classmates to all _this_."

"How would they function in the face of such beauty?"

Light smirked and Ryuuzaki actually looked away. "Worse even than I," Ryuuzaki told Light's desk, "and I find you singularly distracting."

"I knew it," Light said, ego very much stroked. "You only like me for my body."

Ryuuzaki pretended to think about it. "Does your hair count as part of your body?"

"Yes."

"Oh. Then yes, and the rest has just been idle flattery to get you into bed."

"Which you did."

"Exactly, so I suppose we are done here."

"Looks like."

Light waited to see what he would do. He'd backed him into a corner: stay or go. It was like the kiss in the movie theater, but Light couldn't see any third options.

He highly doubted Ryuuzaki would be willing to actually get up and leave, considering his statement a moment ago about how Light looked right now.

Then again, there was no other good course of action for him.

Ryuuzaki shrugged and got to his feet. Light waited. He stretched, fluffed his hair (pointless). Light waited. He did a quick toe-touch, which Light could absolutely guarantee was not part of his morning routine. Light waited.

Then Ryuuzaki looked at him, eyes a challenge, and walked out of Light's bedroom.

What would be unexpected, right now? Follow, don't follow? If he didn't, what would Ryuuzaki do? Would he come back? He'd have to, wouldn't he?

If he would come back, how should Light respond to be equally unexpected.

Light had several minutes to ponder this as Ryuuzaki did not come back. Finally, he got an idea. Simple, easy, unoriginal in the extreme. He slid out of bed and took off his pajamas, tossed them towards his bedroom door, and got back into bed, pulling the covers up to his waist. He ran his hand through his hair, ruffling it just a little more.

He heard footsteps approaching his door and called out, "Come in."

The door opened and the person in his doorway was definitely, 100% his mother and _not_ the boy who had left it a few minutes ago.

She looked at the ceiling immediately, but not before she had absolutely seen Light's clothes near her feet on the floor and her son shirtless- at least- in his bed.

"Ryuuzaki is downstairs," she said, voice surprisingly natural, only a little forced. Light supposed she _had_ seen it all before. "We're having breakfast. He said you were awake, but wasn't sure if you'd be hungry."

The only thing he could do was act casual. Maybe then she'd assume he was wearing pants even though she was standing less than a foot from his underwear.

"Okay," he said. "I'll be down there in a minute."

She nodded, eyes still locked on his fascinating, non-naked ceiling, and backed out of the room, closing the door.

…That _bastard_ had sent her up here knowing Light would play this card! And now he was downstairs, and he'd found a way to neither leave _nor_ stay and to completely circumvent Light's challenge as well as to up the ante by making everything _so_ much more awkward. Now Light's parents knew that Ryuuzaki had spent the night, and they knew that Light had been naked the next morning.

How often was a situation actually completely innocent while looking this incriminating?

Light gathered up as much dignity as possible and dressed. He went downstairs and took his place at the table, still clinging to his plan of acting as natural as possible.

His parents were also acting as natural as possible. After all, they knew that Ryuuzaki made Light happy and Light had just finished a huge speech about being horribly unhappy. Light might have gotten in trouble for having a romantic interest spend the night before, but he certainly wasn't going to now.

Only Ryuuzaki seemed completely comfortable. In fact, he looked absolutely _delighted_ , though Light could tell that no one but he would be able to deduce that from his calm, controlled motions. And why wouldn't he be delighted? He was winning, he was making an awkward situation that he could watch play out like a bloody _soap opera_ , and he even knew that Light couldn't possibly get in trouble for it. He should be downright ecstatic.

And he was, the bastard.

Light was _so_ going to unplug Ryuuzaki's refrigerator.

No one was speaking. It was the heaviest not-heavy silence Light had ever heard. He could almost hear his parents thinking about it, wishing it hadn't happened, wondering if Light was okay, wishing they didn't _know about it_ if it had to be happening because Light _was_ seventeen after all…

Ryuuzaki was munching on toast that was piled up with more jam on one piece than Light would use on an entire loaf.

Silence. Heavy, cheery silence. Everything-was-very-very-okay-even-if-it-was-weird-as-long-as-Light-was-happy-dammit-he-could-do-whatever-he-wanted silence.

"I did not defile your son last night," Ryuuzaki announced into the silence.

Both of Light's parents jumped as if a gunshot had just gone off in the room.

"Oh," his mother said conversationally, voice just a little too loud. And then, absurdly, she added, "too bad." She blinked and hurriedly picked up her tea to prevent herself from saying anything more.

...How was them knowing they hadn't so much worse than them thinking they had?

"We just fell asleep," Light said. He sat down next to Ryuuzaki.

"I can assure you that when Light and I begin having intercourse, we will not do it in your home, and most certainly not when you are present."

Light dropped his face into his hands.

"I'm going to kill you," he informed the table.

"Don't say that in front of a police officer," Ryuuzaki scolded him.

"Then I'm going to tell Watari about how badly you're socializing right now."

Ryuuzaki looked at Soichiro. "Officer, this man threatened my life."

"You're both under age," Soichiro replied.

"We've never had anything even resembling sex," came Light's muffled voice. He hadn't lifted his face and may never do so again.

"It's true. We haven't even seen each other naked, yet."

"We're not even dating!" Light added.

Ryuuzaki stopped, looked at him. "Aren't we?"

Light peeked at him, too. "I don't know," he sighed. "Are we?"

"We're going on dates."

"Yes."

"We like each other."

"…Yes."

"We've shared various intimacies."

"He means emotionally," Light said loudly.

"And if I were to start seeing someone else, how would you feel?"

Light thought about it just to do so, but the answer came easily and instantly. "Jealous."

"And if you started seeing someone else, how would I feel?" Ryuuzaki quizzed him.

Light looked into his eyes and didn't answer.

He finally put his hands back on the table. "Okay, fine. We're dating. Apparently. So glad we did this in front of my parents."

"I've never understood why people feel the need to shield their parents from their personal lives."

"That's because you don't have parents," Light snapped back.

" _Light_ ," his mother cried, appalled.

"Most likely," Ryuuzaki agreed. "I caught Watari in a compromising position at a very early age and since then we have both been remarkably open and honest with each other. I find it much more conducive to sex positivity than the alternative. But we are in Japan, so…"

"Stop talking."

"You shouldn't tell your boyfriend what to do, Light."

"Then I'm breaking up with you."

"In front of your parents?"

Light opened his mouth, but he had nothing else to say. Ryuuzaki smirked, knowing he'd won.

The silence was back. Light's parents were too polite to do anything about it but they were about to jump out of their skin. Light wasn't doing much better.

Then Ryuuzaki did something unexpected: he leaned over and very, very tenderly placed a kiss on Light's cheek.

It was only a few seconds long, but it was such a tender, innocent gesture that Light's parents thawed and Light completely melted, and when Ryuuzaki straightened he'd somehow reset the room to normal.

He went back to crunching on his toast.

Light stared at him for several long beats. He sighed aloud and took a piece of cold, dry toast away from him, heart still pounding. He ate it that way, drawing a horrified look from Ryuuzaki.

"So," Soichiro finally said. "Did you see the news?"

And they were on to much safer subjects.

* * *

"So what is this third date?" Light asked when Ryuuzaki opened his bedroom door to reveal nothing different. "Are we going to clean your room?"

"No," Ryuuzaki said firmly. "Though it would be interesting to see if our relationship could survive such a trial."

Light looked at a pile which appeared to be breathing. He hoped it was just a pile built over a vent. "Probably couldn't."

"So let's not," Ryuuzaki chirped. Instead, he moved a pile with his foot, making an easier path to his computer. He produced a chair that Light hadn't even known was under a pile of clothes and cleared it, putting it next to his desk chair. He sat on it, indicating his office chair with his head.

Light took the little path and sat on Ryuuzaki's chair.

"Alright, what's next?"

"Turn on the computer."

It was off. Light had a feeling that it was not usually off from how stiff the 'on' button was when he pressed it. It sprang to life, so top-of-the-line that its boot time was almost nonexistent.

"Password?" Light asked.

Ryuuzaki said nothing.

He looked at him. "It's asking for your password," he repeated. "Unless this date is supposed to begin with hacking."

"I don't know that you'll get it," Ryuuzaki said, "but you should try."

Light thought. What would Ryuuzaki make his password? Obviously, Ryuuzaki was a super genius. Light himself had fourteen different passwords that were all incredibly complex, and he didn't even have anything worthwhile to protect. He changed them regularly. Ryuuzaki wouldn't have a password like 'password' or a pet's name, he would have a password that would be impossible to guess, randomized and containing letters, numbers, and symbols.

Light couldn't see a way he could guess it.

On the other hand, it couldn't be too truly randomized. Ryuuzaki _was_ a super genius, as previously stated, but it was easy to forget a string of randomized characters if it was one that wasn't used often. Light thought he could probably forget a password himself, under those circumstances, and Ryuuzaki almost never turned off his computer.

Oh.

Light typed one key and one key only- 'enter.'

The next instant he was looking at Ryuuzaki's desktop.

"You never turn this computer off," Light said. "So that means your important files and programs are password protected individually, and _that_ means that you don't have a password for your computer as a whole. Also, why is your desktop wallpaper a photo of socks?"

"Very good," Ryuuzaki said. "You're correct—you will not be able to guess my passwords for my work-related files, no one could. Not even me, not without the correct software. And my wallpaper is a photo of socks, Light, because I irritated Watari one day so he got into my computer as you did and changed my wallpaper, and then corrupted the code that would allow me to change it back to anything else."

"He can do that?"

"He's a technological genius," Ryuuzaki grumbled. "I could probably undo it, but it's not quite annoying enough to take the time to do so. He's also a brilliant psychologist and managed to find exactly a photo that would make my skin crawl, but not enough to go through the effort to change it."

"That's pretty good," Light admitted.

"I know," Ryuuzaki sighed. "I retaliated by putting frosting into the toes of a few of his socks. It took a few days but he screamed _very_ loudly when he finally discovered it by putting his foot in it."

"That's less brilliant."

"But not less effective. Now, I want your opinion on something."

Ryuuzaki leaned over and brought up a program and some files, entering in a long password for each one. "Who did it?"

Light looked, and as he'd begun to suspect they would be, the files were police reports.

"This is a closed case," Ryuuzaki said. "But some people—your father included—still insist that my solution was incorrect. I'd like to hear your side of it."

Light took the mouse and started scrolling through one of them. The first thing he saw was a stark photo of a decapitated woman, the cut so clean that her spinal column was visible and he could make out her trachea.

He looked away.

"I don't want to do this," he said slowly.

Ryuuzaki looked over at him, catching his eyes. He waited for Light to elaborate.

"This is going to send me into a spiral," he said uncertainly. "People are evil, the world is rotten, etcetera… I never could watch the news for very long… I think maybe I shouldn't do this."

"Well, I certainly won't make you," Ryuuzaki said. "But you've been reading up on psychology, yes?"

"Yeah."

"Have you read about phobias?"

"Yes."

"What's the standard treatment for phobias?"

Light sighed. "Exposure therapy and systematic desensitization."

"And what's the treatment for OCD?"

Light sighed again, louder and more pointed. "Exposure and response prevention."

"And Light, what do all these things have in common?"

"You could have just reminded me to face my fears like a normal person," Light snapped.

"But then I couldn't have worked in the psychology lesson."

Light groaned and looked. "Fine. But if I flip out after this, I expect you to get me back on track."

"Shouldn't be hard," Ryuuzaki said smugly. "I can think of a few things that would be sufficiently distracting to take your mind off the state of the world."

"You think pretty highly of yourself for someone I am _certain_ never kissed anymore before me," Light observed.

"I wasn't talking about that sort of thing," Ryuuzaki lied, voice scolding. "But if your mind goes there, that is entirely beyond my control."

Light rolled his eyes and turned back to the computer. He looked hard, because if he was going to look he might as well really look. He might as well entirely overwhelm his brain and get the information he needed, not just glance and not get it. He looked until he knew he'd be able to see the image when he closed his eyes that night, would be able to draw it from memory a month later.

"I have it," he said, voice soft.

Ryuuzaki blinked at him. "You didn't even read the file, yet."

"It was a suicide," Light said.

Ryuuzaki rolled his eyes so hugely that Light's poker face broke and he laughed.

"Yes, Light, a woman cut off her own head."

"She used a guillotine."

"Light would know there was no guillotine if Light had _read the-"_

"Fine, fine." Quickly, he read the actual words on the report. The solution came together easily in his mind, eclipsing any sense of unease brought to him by the photo. "You're right," he said.

"Good."

"You already knew that," Light pointed out. "It's obvious it was her cousin disguised as her husband."

"Because?"

"Because they found a wig hair on the scene. Who does my father think it was?" Light snorted.

"The husband, wearing a wig."

Light rolled his eyes. "I apologize for him."

"Thank you. It's nice to be validated."

"Because that's something you're lacking _so_ profoundly."

Ryuuzaki widened his eyes. "No one understands me."

He reached over Light again and clicked on another report. "Another closed case. Read over the evidence and tell me what you know."

"I know that most people just get a book of riddles or puzzles to do together."

"Mm, but I already have these."

Light looked. This one wasn't as simple. There had been three bodies found at the scene. Two were beaten bloody and one had been… well, it looked as if he'd been opened down the middle and then his innards removed, liquefied somehow, and returned to him. Reports found no fingerprints or physical evidence anywhere on the scene. Light leaned closer.

"Why kill two one way and one another?"

"Why indeed?"

Light thought of the books he'd been reading. "Obviously," he said, "he knew them. Or he knew someone else and wanted to send a message."

"He?"

"Most likely. And I think it's more likely that he wanted to send a message. If you're killing someone you know just because you want to, there would be no need to kill two of them one way, and a third in another way."

"So what is the killer saying?" Ryuuzaki asked.

Light looked at the photos a little longer. "Not enough information..."

"That is usually the case," Ryuuzaki sighed. "The officers on the scene, in my experience, never give you the really important information. They just go on and on about the method of the death, and they entirely overlook… well, what did they overlook? What information did you need?"

"Well, I need to know why these three people. If it was a message it probably wasn't random. So I'd need personal information about the victims."

Ryuuzaki smiled and opened another file. Immediately, detailed personal information about the three victims popped onto the screen, and Light settled in to read it carefully.

"The two who were beaten were married," Light said. "And they have really strange names, unless my English is off."

"They have really bloody strange names," Ryuuzaki deadpanned.

"And the third wasn't related to them. However, he was the godfather of their child. And his name was an alliteration, too. It could be a coincidence…" Light shook his head. "Assuming it's a coincidence isn't exactly a good line of investigation though, is it? So let's assume it's not." Light clicked. "When you and your wife are murdered and it wasn't you or your wife who did it, the next most likely person is… well, maybe your adult child. But their child was only twelve…"

Ryuuzaki said nothing.

"I'm cheating a little," Light said.

"How's that?"

"Well, I think that the police wouldn't have thought the kid did it, and that that is why this case is interesting enough to challenge me with. So I'm going to ignore any other suspects and investigate the kid."

"That's not cheating, that's intelligence," Ryuuzaki said. "It is stupid to ignore a lead, even if that lead is a feeling or a facial expression made by someone else."

"Fine, then if it was the kid…" Light read the boy's file. "His name is an alliteration, too. The same as his parents and not the same as his godfather. So there's the entire Birthday family, all of which are BB, and there is the godfather, who is LL."

Saying it out loud made Light think. He looked at Ryuuzaki. "L?"

Ryuuzaki smiled involuntarily and Light knew he was on the right track.

"Okay," Light said. "So the message was for you. So that means he must have known you, or known of you."

"Everyone knows of me."

"They do," he agreed. "But most people don't hate you enough to imply disemboweling you."

"More than you'd think," Ryuuzaki said cheerfully.

"Well, no one who knows you personally would want to disembowel you," Light said.

"Light is too kind."

"So," he concluded. "This is someone who knows of you, but knows of you more than most people, and who you do not know. Maybe you knew his parents."

"Ask the witness."

"Hey, Ryuuzaki?"

"Yes?"

"Did you know the kid's parents?"

"No," Ryuuzaki said. He made a face as if just realizing something. "But you know, now that I think of it, I've heard the name before somewhere."

"Oh?"

"Yes, I think… Watari has mentioned them."

Light chuckled. "Hey, Watari?"

To Light's surprise, Ryuuzaki's voice changed to a decent impression of Watari's: "Yes, Light?"

"Did you know the Birthdays?"

"Why yes. They ran an orphanage adjacent to mine."

"Did you know their son?"

"Yes, bright boy."

The pieces were coming together easily in Light's head. "So he did know of you, because the orphanage his parents ran was affiliated with that of Watari's, where you lived until recently. So he killed his parents and his godfather to send you a very vivid message… shit, must have been an important message."

"Or he was quite mad. What was the message?"

Light thought about it. "It could be something only you would know."

"Try."

"Well," he said slowly. "The BB's, like himself, were beaten to death. And the LL person was killed much, much more brutally. Did you do something to him?"

"Perhaps in his mind, but overtly no."

"What might he think you did to him?"

"…Would you like to see a photo of the son?"

Light blinked at the strange voice. "Sure…"

Ryuuzaki clicked and a photo appeared on the screen.

Light's world stopped spinning in its tracks.

Because of course.

Of course. Finally Light met someone he liked. Someone he liked enough to actually agree to date, even if the occurrence of the agreement was irregular. Of course Light would meet someone, agree to date him, let his mind be all opened up and let his whole life be improved and changed, taste cake and smell almost nothing and learn French and psychology, and then find out that the only person he'd ever met with a good chance of tricking him, had done so, and now he was clearly going to murder him.

The photo was of Ryuuzaki.

Light's shoulders slumped, the scent of rancid milk starting to fill the room like poisonous gas. If Ryuuzaki… or Beyond Birthday… had brought him here, he must have a plan. Running or sitting still, Light didn't have a chance of making it out alive. Unless this was an elaborate confession, which it didn't really seem to be…

"That's not me," Ryuuzaki said.

"Oh thank-"

"He doesn't even look that much like me," Ryuuzaki protested.

Light looked at the photo again. "Ryuuzaki, he looks almost exactly like you."

"Everyone always says that," Ryuuzaki said, voice surly. "But there are several distinct differences."

"Are you two related?"

"Not as far as I know. Look at him closer."

Light did, peering at the photo with a much more discerning gaze, now. "Well, his eyes… are they red, or is that just the photo?"

"They're red. And mine are _clearly_ not."

"And I think that his hair is dyed. His complexion and his hair don't really match very well…"

"And look at his huge nose," Ryuuzaki pointed out.

"He does have a huge nose," Light placated.

"And I do not have a huge nose."

"You don't," Light placated further.

"So now you see that there is no reason to say that he and I are so terribly similar."

Light chuckled. "Okay. Fine. But he was clearly trying to look like you."

Ryuuzaki glowered at the photo and closed it. "Correct."

"So," Light concluded, clicking on the file again to bring up the photo, just to make Ryuuzaki twitch, "this boy here." He pointed at the photo. "This one. Beyond Birthday. Who looks just like you-"

Ryuuzaki lunged over to close the photo, taking the mouse with him as he sat back in his seat. "Continue," he said primly.

"Well, I guess he wanted to be you. So if he was bright and knew about the school, maybe he murdered his parents to get into your genius orphanage and did it this way to tell you that he was coming for you, to take your place."

All traces of huffiness disappeared from Ryuuzaki in an instant. "Perfect," he said.

"Yeah?"

"Yes."

Light smiled. He looked back at the computer. "Have you got more?"

"Oh yes," Ryuuzaki said, and he showed him.

* * *

They stayed up all night, solving puzzles together. They started with closed cases, going through dozens of solved cases quick as a flash. Things Ryuuzaki had solved, over his time, the really interesting ones. There were many they didn't even open, which Ryuuzaki explained dismissively were too easy or too tedious, which he had solved just with persistence and not with deductive reasoning.

In the small hours of the morning, without telling him he was going to, Ryuuzaki made a change. Light didn't notice at first, but the cases got more and more recent until, suddenly, Light realized that the last three cases he'd just solved, hadn't been solved before.

"I'm… guessing these aren't cases you were unable to solve," Light said slowly.

"No," Ryuuzaki chuckled. "They are little questions that people ask me, typically through email or occasionally the post, important to no one except the person who asks them. They pile up every so often. I appreciate you taking the time to work some of them out for me."

"My pleasure…" Light said. He looked at the clock and it was approaching three o'clock in the morning. He couldn't remember the last time he'd stayed awake that late on purpose.

"You're very good," Ryuuzaki said. "Very quick, very accurate. You would be more than capable of taking on a part-time role assisting me."

Light nodded slowly.

"In fact, I would not mind your opinion on the case I am currently investigating for the police…"

Light nodded more quickly.

"We could do that now," Ryuuzaki suggested.

"Absolutely," Light agreed.

They did.

* * *

The sun had already been up for several hours when they put the answer together. It was delightfully simple, by which Light meant that it was wonderfully complex and intricate and if one of them—Light couldn't remember who—hadn't noticed just one tiny, tiny detail on a crime scene photograph, it never would have been solved. Instead, they were able to get the message to the police, and the police leapt into action from there.

Light leapt to his feet with an undignified cry and turned to Ryuuzaki, his face broken in a grin. "That was amazing!" Light announced loudly enough to wake Watari in the next room. Ryuuzaki didn't quiet him, instead smiling up at him.

"I too find it an engaging pastime. I daresay that without it I'd be as mad as you were a month ago."

"It was just… it was…" Light reached for the words but he couldn't find any. It was fun, yes. It was invigorating, very. More than any of that, it felt like his brain had slipped into a warm bath. A warm, lavender-scented bath. And even though it was entirely centered on the scum of humanity, the previous night had made Light realize something:

"Criminals are _brilliant_!"

"It is much more fun to hunt clever criminals than to live amongst the idiot, law-abiding masses."

Light dropped back onto Ryuuzaki's chair, head dropping backwards to smile at the ceiling.

"So perhaps you would be willing to assist me in future investigations?" Ryuuzaki asked, although it didn't really sound like a question. "You can start next weekend, and you can come over some weekdays if you'd like. You'd receive a share of the monetary compensation I receive proportionate to your contribution. I estimate that your assistance today made the work go about one hour quicker, and in this case time really was of the essence in saving lives."

They'd saved lives—six of them—by being smarter and faster than a smart and fast criminal. Light's head was still spinning with it. Also, had he just been hired as a part-time assistant to _the_ L?

"Do you tell people that you do it to save lives?" Light asked.

"Yes, of course."

"And is it really because-"

"Because I'm a manipulative ass who likes to impose my will on others under the guise of heroics? Yes."

Light was lucky.

He'd never thought that before, outside of a vague understanding that he was lucky to be born in a first-world country, lucky to not have any horrible diseases, etcetera. But actually, he was simply very lucky. He had friend, if he counted his French tutor. He had his family, who were idiots but at least they loved him. He had his mind, maybe broken but definitely stellar. He had… Ryuuzaki, whatever that meant, who understood him and was just as fascinated, apparently, by Light as Light was by him. He had languages and psychology and libraries, things to be interested in.

And, actually, he was entirely lucky that people were rotten- he would never run out of crimes to solve as long as he lived, even if he solved crimes every moment of every day, forever.

That sounded amazing.

He imagined waking up the morning, showering, grooming himself to his exacting standards, and going next door to an office. He imagined opening the door and in it were two desks, one half of the room being spotless and one half of the room being absolute chaos. At one of the desks, Ryuuzaki was already at work, and he glanced up briefly as Light entered, shooting him a quick smile before availing him of all updates on the case. He imagined Watari, who apparently lived there too, bringing up coffee and cake for breakfast, and the cake was amazing and the coffee woke Light up the rest of the way, and he got to work, and the criminal was particularly brilliant and it took them, working together, until lunch to solve it.

He imagined going downstairs, bleary-eyed and alight, hands and mouths getting distracted on the stairs briefly, riding the high of an exciting case closed. Ryuuzaki would complain that he was hungry and Light would roll his eyes and they'd stagger down the rest of the stairs and the hallway, getting very briefly distracted once more. They'd have a healthy lunch, and Light wouldn't be gaining any weight from daily cake for breakfast. As soon as lunch was done, they'd run back upstairs to solve more crimes, if they had any more, and if not they'd go out, or stay in, and talk to each other or do their own thing, and Light would go to the library sometimes and he wouldn't even notice the sidewalk or the smell of the people on the train.

And then, when it was time for dinner the three of them would re-convene and there would be conversation, and then it would be back to work until Light couldn't keep his eyes open. He'd go to bed, then, and sometimes Ryuuzaki would turn in as well…

Light wasn't sure if they went back to the same bedroom or two separate ones. And where were his parents in all of this?

Ah well, some details could be worked out later, surely.

He looked over at Ryuuzaki, a strange black-and-white creature crunched up on his chair, pale as only someone who lived his life in front of a computer could be, barefoot, cake-scented, his eyes unblinking and reflecting the rectangle of light from his computer screen. Brilliant and asocial and impolite and mischievous and self-contained.

Then he imagined that chair empty, and his heart hurt. Could he live without him? Probably. He had enough to keep his mind engaged, now, that he didn't strictly _need_ this boy. But did he want him?

Terribly.

He reached for him and Ryuuzaki, as he often did (but not always, and that was just as important) Ryuuzaki knew exactly what Light was going to do before he did it, opening up for him. Light wrapped him up in his arms and Ryuuzaki did the same.

"Did Light just have some sort of revelation?" Ryuuzaki asked.

"I was just thinking about how much I like you, don't ruin it," Light said, nosing into Ryuuzaki's wild hair.

"But if you _like_ me then surely you appreciate my cutting insights into your-"

Not for the first time, and most certainly not for the last, Light kissed him to shut him up, and when Ryuuzaki made a self-satisfied noise he realized he'd done exactly what Ryuuzaki intended.

He broke the kiss. "Are we ever going to just kiss without it being a competition?" he asked.

"If we do, I certainly hope it isn't the majority of the time," Ryuuzaki said worriedly. He ran his hands up Light's back. Light shivered. "Now come back here."

Light went.

* * *

Light finally returned home that Sunday evening around dinner time, utterly exhausted in both mind and body but honestly and completely happy. He dragged himself in just as his family was sitting down to eat and he joined them. He piled his plate high with food- he was ravenous. Ryuuzaki had told him once that he kept the cake weight off by burning calories by using his brain. Maybe that was true?

His parents looked worried but were doing their best to hide that they kept staring at him. He realized he may have traumatized them a bit by suddenly announcing that he'd been a mess for as long as he could remember when they'd thought he was nothing more than a bit isolated. He actually felt a little bad about it. Maybe he shouldn't have hidden it for so long.

"How was your day?" his father asked _very_ casually.

"Good," Light said with feeling. "Really good." He smiled at them to show it was true.

His mother looked a little hopeful. "Oh? So it was a nice date, then?"

"Unconventional," Light chuckled. "So, Dad, how is work going?"

He looked worried again by the sudden subject change, but he was clearly too paranoid to point it out. "Quite well, actually. I was notified today that a serial killer we've been hunting for days was captured. As usual, it was with help from…" Soichiro's eyes narrowed. "Was L working when he was supposed to be on a date with you?" he asked, voice a threat.

"No. Well, yes," Light replied. "But the work was the date."

Puzzled silence from his parents.

"He had me helping him," Light said. "He had me sort of leading, actually. First it was re-solving closed cases, and then it was miscellaneous cases that make their way to him because he's L, and then we finished off the night by catching that killer for you."

The puzzled silence turned into stunned silence.

"You're the one who noticed the shoelace?" Soichiro asked after several long moments.

"To be honest, neither of us can remember who noticed the shoelace."

His father didn't seem to know what to say, at first. Finally, what he landed on was, " _Thank you_."

Light smiled and nodded, taking a big bite of fish.

Soichiro turned to Sachiko. "You know, six people are alive now because of our son."

Sachiko's face lit up. She was so sweet, Light thought. She really would like nothing better than if her son went around saving lives like her husband did. All the better if he'd do it from behind a computer and not out risking his life in the field. "Light, we're so proud of you."

"And," Light added, "I'll be officially assisting L part-time."

"Officially?" she echoed.

" _And_ ," Light said finally, "I've got some things worked out."

They waited, attentive.

"Tomorrow when I go back to school, I'll apologize for my outburst." It felt like a million years ago. "I'll go to counseling, like they want me to. I'll tell the truth, but I'm not going to participate in any programs they want me to do, or any early University classes they suggest. I'd rather do police work with Ryuuzaki for now. When I do go to University, though, I've decided to major in criminology."

It was the first time he'd ever included his parents in just about anything. It was the first time he'd openly discussed what he wanted from University, even including an actual desire to attend it. It was the first time he'd announced what he would major in. His parents reacted accordingly, and it was with utter delight.

He let them celebrate him. He let them take him and Sayu out for ice cream. He let them buzz excitedly about his future and how _it sounds like you've got a good plan, Light_. He let them feel like maybe they didn't need to worry about him every moment as he was sure they had since his speech on Friday. To the best of his ability, he played along, ate the ice cream (it tasted a little bit sweet, actually, he'd have to ask Ryuuzaki to compare ice cream and cake for him), and answered questions and responded to speculations.

And when he got home, he was even more exhausted than he had been before. He'd been awake well over 24 hours, at this point, and he was increasingly starting to feel it. He dropped into bed with a smile.

Oh.

He fumbled for his phone.

 _What does ice cream taste like?_

A response appeared almost instantly. _Cold, sweet. Not as sweet as cake but sweeter than that coffee cake Watari made for us yesterday. Creamy. What flavor was it?_

 _Green tea._

 _Then less sweet and more like, predictably, green tea, which tastes earthy and leafy. Japanese sweets reliably taste more like what they're intended to than European sweets, did you know?_

 _For multiple reasons, I can't imagine why I would know that._

 _I'll have to acquire some of each. It can be an experiment, a little mental break from work. Maybe next Saturday?_

 _You just want an excuse to eat sweets_.

 _I am L. I don't need an excuse to eat sweets_.

Light smiled and burrowed deeper into his covers. _Watari needs an excuse for why he provides you with so many._

 _Dead parents._

 _That's a terrible excuse._

 _No friends?_

 _Still not problems solved by candy._

 _He hopes I'll offer my candy to random people on the street and ask them to be my friend._

 _That's an excellent way to get arrested._

 _Hmm, Light may be correct._

Light yawned.

He got another text

 _Tired?_

 _Do you have cameras in my room?_

 _Yes._

 _Really?_

 _Not yet._

 _Well let me know when you do so I can change in the bathroom._

 _In that case, I will most certainly not let you know when I install cameras._

 _Look, another great way to get arrested!_

 _I am on a roll!_

 _I think the correct response is 'lol.' And with that, I'm going to bed before you get any more chat speak out of me this evening._

 _Can't have that. Goodnight, Light."_

 _Goodnight_.

Light put his phone back on his night stand. He closed his eyes.

He took a deep breath and he smelled absolutely nothing.


End file.
